Thicker Than Water
by HeartMuses
Summary: "She is kind, a heart made of honey. He is reserved, the opposite of sunny." Olivia Vance and Draco Malfoy could not be more different if they tried, or so they thought. But Olivia has a secret that she's spent her whole life trying to hide, and when the truth comes out, they find that they have more in common than they could have ever imagined.
1. one

OLIVIA:

I looked up from my potions textbook to see Draco Malfoy approaching from the Slytherin table. "Hey, Vance!" he said, his tone demanding attention.

I held back from rolling my eyes, "What do you want, Malfoy?"

"Why such an attitude?" He teased as he helped himself to a seat on the bench across from me. He rested his elbows on the table confidently. "I was actually wondering if you would like to accompany me to the Yule Ball."

I glanced towards the table that he had come from. Crabbe and Goyle huddled close, snickering. "It would be my pleasure," I smiled, knowing full well that they had put him up to this.

I could see the panic in Draco's eyes. He hadn't expected me to actually say yes. "Oh, well al-alright. F-fantastic," he stumbled. Without another word, he stood up and retreated to his minions. Immediately, their laughing ceased. Draco grabbed both of them by the backs of their robes, pulling them up from their seats and out of the Great Hall.

I grinned to myself, gathering my books and returning to the Gryffindor common room. This might actually make the school dance interesting.

When I arrived in the common room, Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter were knelt in front of a distressed looking Ron.

"You wouldn't guess what's just happened," I said, beaming.

Harry rose to his feet, "what?" He asked, his eyebrows knit together.

"Draco Malfoy just asked me to the Ball."

Hermione perked up from across the room. "And what did you say?"

Ron seemed to snap out of his trace, "Well, she's said no of course! She'd have to be crazy to want to go with him."

But I shook my head, "Not exactly. Y'see, I know that he asked as a joke, to try to mess with me or something. So I figured I would mess right back."

"So, you're going with him?" Harry asked, still confused.

I shrugged, "If he doesn't chicken out by then."

"Olivia, you're a bloody genius," Harry grinned.

The prospect of actually attending the Ball with Draco became very apparent on Saturday morning, the day of the event. "Here he comes," Harry said, ducking his head down and busying himself in his breakfast. I turned around to see Draco just a few paces away, a sly smile on his face.

"I'm looking forward to our time together tonight," he grinned, though his voice was shaky. I should have known that he was far too proud to back down.

"As am I," I smiled back. Our eyes met and his shoulders tensed.

But as I stared into his grey eyes, my heart seemed to skip a beat. I would definitely be lying if I said that I didn't find him to be physically attractive, but then he opened his mouth and any ounce of attraction instantly disappeared.

"I-I guess I'll be seeing you there?" He asked, crossing his arms.

I nodded, breaking our eye contact to glance down at the floor. "I guess you will be."

"Great."

"Perfect."

"Good."

He paused for a moment, waiting for me to say something. When he realized that I wasn't going to back down either, he nodded sharply and turned away, clearly defeated.

"That was the single most awkward exchange that I have ever witnessed," Hermione sighed as if she had been holding her breath.

"That was the most incredible exchange that I have ever witnessed," Harry said with a smile, "I love watching Malfoy squirm. He doesn't know what to do with himself."

Ginny shook her head, "Are you really going to go through with this?" She asked, looking worried.

"Of course. I mean, I wouldn't have a date otherwise," I said, starting to relax.

"I don't think you'll have much of one regardless. He's too nervous to even look at you, let alone dance!" Hermione's eyes were wide, her eyebrows inching closer together. I appreciated the concern, but I for one was excited to see how tonight would go. After all, he was bound to snap at some point.

"We'll see about that."

I stared at myself in the full-length mirror in our dormitory, my heart rate quickening. The black high-low dress hugged my body in all of the right places, the full skirt making my waist seem tinier. My hair was pushed out of by face, half of it braided back while the rest fell past my shoulders in loose curls. My shoes, simple black heels, added a good bit of height to my small frame, though I wasn't sure how I would be able to dance in them. It was finally the night of the Yule Ball: the night that everyone had been waiting for.

When I thought about the idea of spending the whole night with Draco Malfoy, my mind filled with a combination of excitement and dread. This night could only go one of two ways: either I got to enjoy seeing him be incredibly uncomfortable, or he would miserable the entire time and not even dance with me.

I took a deep breath and grabbed my wand from my bedside table, tucking it into the pocket of my dress. I probably wouldn't need it, but having it by my side gave me a sense of security. And with that, I turned and made my way down to the Great Hall, where the ball was being held.

After a moment's pause at the top of the stairs, I took the first step knowing there was no turning back now.

The Hall was filled with people, chatter echoing off of the walls. My eyes searched the crowd for someone I knew as I descended, but then I saw him. His platinum blonde hair was hard to miss, every single strand perfectly in place. He stood among a group of other Slytherins, but his eyes were trained on me. Maybe I was mistaken, but I could have sworn I saw his jaw drop. He didn't look so bad himself either. His tuxedo style dress robes complimented his pale skin nicely. I was a sucker for a guy in dress robes. But then he turned to the girl who stood next to him, whispering something to her. She too looked up, and I could see it was Pansy Parkinson. Her signature scowl wiped across her face.

Draco turned back towards the entry way, towards me, and began to push his way through the crowd to greet me.

DRACO:

Olivia looked magnificent. There was no other way to put it. As usual, everything about her was dark and mysterious, yet intriguing. As I approached, I had to duck my head to keep from gawking at her. "You look… nice," I said as I offered her my arm, choosing my words carefully.

"You clean up well," she smiled, accepting. I could feel the weight of others' gazes on us, though I wasn't sure whether they were admiring her, or shocked that we were here together. Or perhaps it was both.

For everyone who didn't understand the situation, this probably looked like a bold statement. Me, at the Yule Ball in full robes, with a Gryffindor on my arm and a hint of a smile on my face wasn't something they saw often. However we both knew that this was not truly a date. I could tell that she had knowledge of the bet I made with Crabbe, though it didn't seem to bother her.

The professors had begun to usher students into formation, with a aisle forming for the Tri-Wizard Champions, and a large circle for the first dance. We followed the masses, finding a spot on the edge of the circle.

Cheers and claps broke out as the Champions entered and the orchestra began to play. When they started to dance, I looked down at Olivia, whose eyes followed Harry and his date as they danced. I hated to admit it, but she really was beautiful. As other pairs began to take the dance floor, she glanced up at me. "What?" She asked, catching me.

I bowed slightly and extended my hand to her, "May I have this dance?"

The look in her dark eyes softened, "Absolutely." I honestly couldn't tell if she was playing with me anymore. Her hand rested delicately on top of mine as we sashayed onto the floor. I reached down and rested my palm on her waist, her arm falling across my shoulders. Our other hands interlaced, falling perfectly into place. She leaned into me, following my lead.

I spun her around the floor, falling into step with the other pairs. For once, I wasn't thinking about the pressure of being seen with her, or suppressing my enjoyment. I simply thought of the movement of our feet, the turns and leaps, and the way her hand felt on my shoulder. She seemed to fit against me like a puzzle piece, comfortably pleasant and secure.

I don't know how long we dance for, but when the music ceased, I realized that my feet ached.

"Students!" Professor Mcgonagall said over the microphone, "Please be seated and enjoy a beautiful meal prepared for you by Hogwarts' staff!"

The others around us began to disperse, sitting down at the many round tables towards the back of the Hall. "Hungry?" I asked.

"Starving," she smiled. She was always smiling. Suddenly, I realized that I was still holding her hand. I just didn't want to let go. In an attempt to cover it up, I began to lead her across the room towards a table where Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise were sat with their dates, two empty chairs left for us.

"What's got into you, Draco?" Pansy asked, pushing Blaise's hand away.

I pulled Olivia's chair out for her without even thinking about it. "What do you mean?" I asked, taking my own seat.

"You're all… smiley," Blaise scowled.

I shrugged, "Might as well have a bit of fun, while we're here."

Pansy sat back in her chair, arms folded. An odd look filled her eyes, which bore onto Olivia. "So Vance," She prompted, "What exactly is it that your parents do?"

She took a sip of her pumpkin juice before answering. "I actually don't know my birth parents," She said, somehow remaining polite. My heart raced as I wondered how she would respond to the inquiry. "I'm adopted. But my mother works for the Ministry, in the Department of Mysteries."

"An Unspeakable?" I asked. I knew more things about Olivia than she realized, but this was a surprise to me. She nodded. "Do you have any idea what she actually does?"

But she shook her head. "No idea. She had to make an Unbreakable Vow when she got the job. If she talks about it, she dies."

"I knew that they were sworn to secrecy, but that's intense," I said. The idea of coming home to a family and not being able to talk about your day seemed so isolating. "That's a dangerous profession, whatever it is that they do. The last intern that entered the department never made it out."

"Yeah," she shrugged, "but what Ministry job isn't dangerous nowadays?"

I chuckled. She had a point, though she probably knew less about the state of affairs than I did. That seemed to be the only thing my father talked about. Well, that and his plans for me when the Dark Lord returned.

"But your real parents," Pansy interrupted, "were they magical?"

Olivia nodded, "Of course. They met at Hogwarts."

"What house were they?" Pansy pressed.

I lightly rested my hand on top of Olivia's, suddenly feeling protective of her — mostly because I knew the answer. "Pansy, that's none of your business."

"It's okay, Draco," Olivia smiled at me, "They were actually both in Slytherin."

Pansy leaned forward, suddenly interested. "Were they really? What were their names?"

"Pansy!" I said sternly, "That's enough."

"Draco," Pansy said, her tone mocking mine. "I'm just trying to make sure she's worthy of your time."

"I'll be right back," Olivia breathed, standing up.

I swallowed hard. It was my fault for putting her in this situation. "Are you alright?" I asked.

"Yeah, I just need to go to the loo." And with that, she turned and disappeared around the corner.

I leaved forward against the table with my eyes trained on Pansy. "What the hell was that about?"

"I'm looking out for you! And this isn't even a real date. Why are you being so sensitive?" Pansy defended.

I glanced over at Blaise, hoping he would agree with me. But unfortunately, I was mistaken. "Yeah, since when do you stand up for Gryffindors? You were all fine with us making jokes earlier," he said.

"There's no need to interrogate her, especially about personal information," I turned back to Pansy, "I know you're just jealous that I'm here with her instead of you, but you don't have to take it out on her."

And then the table fell silent. We all picked at our plates of food, too uncomfortable to speak. Before long, Professor Flitwick came on the microphone and introduced The Weird Sisters and the band took the stage. The second that the music began, nearly every girl in the room squealed and ran to the front of the room, their dates following behind them.

And then I was left alone, pulling apart a piece of turkey with my fork, my chin resting on my hand. Maybe this whole night was a mistake. Maybe I shouldn't have dragged Olivia into this knowing that she would be so uncomfortable. But at the same time, I didn't ever think that I would actually be enjoying my time with her. Something about her was just so captivating. Perhaps I had always felt drawn to her, having heard so much about her family from my father, but I was beginning to think that she might be able to help me seeing that she had managed to escape such a negative environment.

"Hey," I heard from above me. I looked up to see her sitting down next to me. I felt my face light up, not even trying to hide it anymore. But when our eyes met, I could tell that she'd been crying.

I held back from asking her if she was okay, not wanting to press any further. "Want to go dance?"

"I would love that," she beamed, any sadness instantly forgotten. I stood and offered her my hand, parading our way to the dance floor.


	2. two

OLIVIA:

I don't know what had gotten into Draco, but I liked it. At some point today, he went from scheming and childish to a mature gentleman. He danced with me. He pulled out my chair. He even held my hand. Somehow, we even managed to hold a conversation for longer than a minute without a single snide remark.

And now, as the dance floor began to clear and students retired to their dorms, I swayed to the sound of my favorite Weird Sisters song, Magic Works, with his arms around me. "You know, you're a pretty good dancer," He said, a smile on his face.

I could feel my cheeks going red. "You're not so bad yourself," I whispered bashfully as I glanced down at our feet.

He was quiet for a moment before he sighed, "Vance, I can't believe that I'm saying this, but I've had a really good time with you tonight."

I suddenly became very aware of my heartbeat racing in my chest, almost choking on my own pulse. "I'm glad," I said, "because I've enjoyed my time with you as well."

"I'm sorry that my friends are a bit unpleasant."

I shook my head, "It's okay, I've gotten used to it by now."

"No, it's not okay," he insisted, "They were totally out of line. I shouldn't have let it go that far."

My hand slid down from where it rested on his shoulder, landing on his chest. "Do you maybe want to get out of here? We could go somewhere quiet and talk. After all this, I'd like to get to know you a bit better."

My gaze raised to meet his. "That sounds wonderful," He whispered, dropping his grasp on me and grabbing my hand. "Do you have a particular place in mind?"

"The boat house on the lake?" I suggested. He nodded in agreement. "Would you mind if I went and changed into something a little less… stuffy? I'll meet you there."

"Of course."

And we parted ways.

"Someone looks cheery," I heard as I was on my way back out after swapping my ballgown for a cozy jumper and jeans.

I jumped, stopping in my tracks. To my relief, it was only Fred, leaned against the mantlepiece. "What are you still doing up?" I asked.

"I could ask you the same thing," he pointed out, "how was Draco?"

I shrugged, struggling to for words. "He was surprisingly pleasant."

"I saw you two dancing. He actually looked happy for once. I don't think I'd ever seen him smile so much before," Fred laughed. He was right. Draco was never truly happy, even when he was torturing poor first years.

"I seem to have that effect on people," I said arrogantly, "Now if you don't mind, I've got somewhere to be."

He stood up straighter, watching me carefully. "And where might that be?"

"Somewhere," I repeated, slipping out of the common room before he could question me further.

The boat house was dark and eerie, though I always found a strange sort of comfort there. The sound of the water lapping against the docks was steady and calming. The lake gave off a cool breeze, gently rustling my long hair. But it was quieter than I had expected. Draco hadn't shown.

I felt another wave of tears hitting me, similar to at dinner earlier tonight. I leaned back against the wall, feeling defeated. I don't know why I had expected anything different of him. He only went on this date with me because his bonehead friends told him to. Of course he wouldn't sneak out of the castle to see me.

But then I heard footsteps approaching. I held my breath and ducked behind one of the canoes mounted on the wall, not wanting to get caught.

"Vance?" I heard a voice whisper. A pale face rounded the corner. It was Draco, a large basket in his hand. He had swapped out his dress robes for a more comfortable green sweater.

"Malfoy," I whispered back, stepping out from my hiding spot.

A smile appeared on his face the second he saw me. "Sorry I'm a little late," he said, "I snuck by the kitchen and grabbed some refreshments." He pulled a bottle of butterbeer out of the basket. I took a closer look at it, seeing that it was also filled with blankets and an assortment of fruit and sweet treats.

He placed the blanket on the floor and started to unpack it. "Oh silly," I said with a smile.

"What?" He said worriedly, "What did I do?"

I shook my head and grabbed my wand from where I had tucked it inside my boot. With a swift flick, all of the items began to float out of the basket and arrange themselves for the perfect late night picnic.

"That works too," He chuckled, offering his hand to me. We both sat down on the picnic blanket and he handed me a butterbeer. "That's a beautiful wand you have," He noted, "Would you mind if I take a look at it?"

I handed it over and he took it excitedly. "Blackthorn. Dragon Heartstring."

"Where'd you get it?"

I scoffed, "Ollivander's, of course! I remember it like it was yesterday." I really did. Even though it had been five years since the wand maker placed the wand in my hands, I could still see the look on his face when it instantly started to glow. It wasn't the usual look of satisfaction that I had seen him give other young witches and wizards. Rather, it was a look of great trepidation. I remembered what he'd told me about the materials, confirming my greatest fears. "He said that both blackthorn wood and dragon heartstrings have a tendency to lend easily to dark magic."

Draco nodded slowly, turning the silver hilt over and over in his hands. "Olivia," he sighed solemnly, "I know who you are."

My heart plummeted. "You what?"

"I know who your parents are," he said, his voice catching. "My father knew your family quite well before they were sent to Azkaban."

I tried to speak, but my jaw flapped uselessly, unable to form words.

He put the wand down gently, reaching for my hand. But I pulled it away. "I know it's no secret my parents have flirted with the dark arts. It's okay. There's nothing to be embarrassed of," he muttered, trying to reassure me.

"But my parents haven't just _flirted_ , Draco. It's so different. They murdered countless people. I've spent my entire life trying to escape it. Draco, please, _please,_ don't tell anyone," I said angrily.

"Trust me, I won't," he promised, "why else do you think I told Pansy off?"

I looked up at him for the first time. His eyes rested lightly on me, pleading. "Why did you do that? I thought you hated me," I said, trying to change the subject.

He smirked. "It's my natural instinct to put people down. I don't always mean the things that I say."

"Then why do you say them?"

He broke out eye contact. "I have an image to keep up. I have to make my father proud by perpetuating his beliefs. If I said any differently, he'd disown me."

"Being disowned isn't too bad," I joked. I had never joked about that before.

He laughed, "It seems to have done you well. If you don't mind my asking, how did you get out of it all?"

"Dumbledore," I said simply. "When my parents were sentenced, he took it upon himself to rehome me properly. He found the best person he possibly could, the person who could offer me the brightest future."

"How old were you?"

"I was only four. I don't remember anything before that though."

"They Obliviated you," He said certainly. I had never thought about that before. I wouldn't have put it past Dumbledore to Obliviate me to remove the bad influences in my early childhood.

"Maybe they did," I shrugged. Most people my age would probably have a more extreme reaction to being told that the first four years of their life, the only time that they knew their parents, had been erased from their memory, but there wasn't much to do about it now.

He took a big sip from his bottle and glanced around the boat house. "This is an interesting place to choose. I like it. It's relaxing."

I grinned, "I try to spend as much time outside as I can while at Hogwarts. I like the city, but it can get a bit stale sometimes."

"Whereabouts do you live?"

"London," I said, "close to Mum's work. But enough about me! I want to know more about _you_."

"Well," Draco started, "My father owns a-"

I cut him off. "No, I don't want to know about your father. I want to know about Draco. What do you want to do when your older? What's your favorite book? How do you like to spend your summers?"

This conversation continued on for what felt like hours. He told me how he'd always had an interest in writing and reading, saying that he'd enjoy a career in publications. He said that he recently read a book called Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, which he found fascinating having never heard of the creatures mentioned. He sadly noted that he usually spent his summers doing whatever his father asked of him, though they got to travel a bit and he quite liked that. There was so much more to him than I had ever imagined. It sounds crazy to say that I never really thought of him as a person, but it was true. Before now, he had just always been a pesky Slytherin who liked to stick his nose in places that it didn't belong. I hadn't thought much about him enjoying anything other than tormenting his inferiors. Slowly, everything about him started to fall into place.

With every bottle of butterbeer, we inched closer and closer together. Eventually, we had grown so near that I could feel his breath on my cheeks. "— And that's how I learned that I could never be a beater." I finished with a laugh. He let out a low, breathy chuckle. I looked up to see his eyes drifting away from mine and down towards my lips. Everything seemed to slow down. I could hear my heartbeat ringing in my ears. I could smell what was left of his cologne, mixed with the musky scent of sweat. And then, I could taste his lips on mine. They tasted of butterscotch. They glided gently but still maintained a certain dominance about them. His hand cupped my face, sliding back into my hair.

I teased my lips against his, kissing back before pulling back slightly, just enough to get another good look at him before leaning my weight into him, our mouths crashing back together.

I was kissing Draco Malfoy.

DRACO:

When I opened my eyes, the sun was beaming in through the single window in the dorm, the heavy green curtains pulled back. I blinked hard and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Besides myself, the room was empty. Everyone else had already headed down for breakfast. Pulling the sheets back, I sat up. But as I did so, a sharp pain radiated through my head. I knew that I had overindulged with the butterbeer last night, but I wasn't expecting to feel it in the morning.

I sat back, remembering the night before. Somehow, the night that I had been dreading for days turned into one of the best nights of my entire life. For the first time ever, I felt like someone was actually interested in me as a person, not for my family's wealth or status. Olivia didn't care about any of that. She seemed so genuinely happy to listen to me carry on about secret passions that I had kept quiet for years. It definitely helped that she was so easy to talk to. I could still hear her quiet laugh and see her subtle smile.

What was I thinking? This was Olivia Vance, a Gryffindor prefect a year older than me. I was supposed to hate her. Although I kind of did in this moment. I hated her for making me feel so conflicted. If my father found out about this, he'd be furious with me. And somehow, my father found out about everything.

I shook those thoughts out of my head and stood up, changing out of my pajamas and into a pair of black trousers and a white oxford shirt, chucking on a grey jumper over top.

The Great Hall no longer looked like the winter wonderland that it had been last night, but it was still buzzing with students. "Somebody was out late," Pansy said as I approached the table.

I shrugged and sat down, reaching for a piece of toast. "I couldn't sleep, so I went for a walk," I lied.

"Did your new little friend join you?" She pressed.

I rolled my eyes, "She's not my friend."

"Does she know that? It certainly didn't look like it last night."

She really wasn't going to let this go. "I didn't want the Ball to be a complete waste of her time," I said, trying not to sound too defensive.

"Who are you and what have you done with Draco Malfoy?" Goyle asked, butting into the conversation.

Thankfully, Pansy didn't give me any time to answer. "Either way," She scoffed, "that girl is definitely hiding something, and I'm going to find out what it is." With that, she stood and marched off, abandoning her half eaten plate of scrambled eggs.

I held back from yelling after her, from trying to stop her, because that would only seem more suspicious. Instead, I grabbed her plate and finished it off myself.

Today was Sunday, which meant there were no classes. I usually loved weekends, but for once I wished that I had a lesson to go to in order to take my mind off of Olivia. I tried to take advantage of having free time by getting some classwork done, but I just couldn't focus on anything no matter how hard I tried.

I groaned and leaned back against the foot of the couch, exasperated. I had been sat here on the floor of the common room for what felt like forever, rereading the same paragraph over and over again. None of it would absorb into my brain. The words simply swam across my eyes. This was just a waste of my time. I needed to get out of here. So, I turned to the next best thing: flying practice.

I packed up my books and parchment and headed off the the Quidditch pitch.

After an hour or so of flying, I returned to the common room sweaty and exhausted but feeling much better. Quidditch always helped me clear my head. My father always discouraged me from "wasting my time" with the sport because he felt that it wouldn't contribute to my future and distracted from more important matters. Despite his wishes, I continued to play. This, however minor, was my small act of defiance. After doing everything he asked of me for my entire life in an attempt to make him proud of me, I thought I deserved this small amount of freedom. Nevertheless, Father always blamed everything on Quidditch. Regardless of the fact that I always got fairly good grades, he always insisted that they could be better if I spent less time on my broom. The only reason that he allowed me to join the team in the first place was because he wanted me to prove that I was better than Potter. Even then, I managed to let him down.

The sound of Pansy's voice pulled me out of my own thoughts. "I figured it out!" She said enthusiastically when she saw me enter.

"Figured out what?" I asked halfheartedly. After everything she had pulled over the last 24 hours, I was even less fond of her than I was before. That was another thing that my father liked to dictate: my friendships. He basically told me who I was or wasn't allowed to hang around with, and because he worked closely with the Parkinsons, the Crabbes, and the Goyles, he would find out if I disobeyed.

"I figured out Vance's big secret!" She smiled, "or should I say Riddle's secret?"

I could feel my heart sink inside my chest. "How…" So many thoughts raced through my tired mind at once, but none of them were coherent.

"Hogwarts' records," She chimed, brandishing a large leather-bound book. The front of it read _Student Records: 1994-1995._ "The school is required to publish them every year. It's public information, and everything has to be filed using the student's full legal name."

"Pansy," I choked out, still struggling to formulate sentences, "you can't tell anyone."

She waved a hand at me dismissively. "Too late."


	3. three

OLIVIA:

After spending the whole afternoon in the library, I made my way to the Great Hall, ready for a warm meal. But, as I walked in, I could see several pairs of eyes on me. I knew that attending the Ball with Draco had rubbed some people the wrong way, but I didn't realize that so many people were so upset by it. Or so I thought.

I approached our usual spot and took a seat beside Harry. "What have you guys been up to today?" I asked innocently.

No one answered.

I turned to Fred who sat on my other side, "Is everything alright?" He gave me a sad look and opened his mouth to answer, but Harry piped up before he could.

"So, when were you planning on telling me about this?" He asked, a distasteful tone in his voice. He held up a piece of paper, clearly ripped out of a book. On it was the list of Gryffindor fifth year students along with their school portraits. Mine was circled in dark ink, below it my full legal name. Olivia Thomasina Riddle.

Immediately, I felt like I was going to be sick. "Harry, where did you get that?"

"It was posted on the bulletin board in the common room," He said shortly, putting it down on the table. "You've been lying to us."

I shook my head, my face starting to grow hot. "I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't think that it mattered so much," I stumbled, trying to formulate a reason without giving away too much.

"Didn't matter?" He huffed angrily, "Why would you think that this didn't matter? You're directly related to the man who murdered my parents. I trusted you. And, if it didn't matter, then why would you bother lying about it?"

"I…" I stammered, "Dumbledore told me…" Tears started to form in my eyes. I couldn't sit here in the middle of a crowded room with everyone's eyes on me and cry. I had to get out of here.

Without another word, I stood back up and ran out of the Hall, too embarrassed to look anyone in the face.

As I ran, I felt my shoulder knock into someone. "Olivia!" It was Draco. I couldn't turn and face him right now. Not after he had done this.

This had to be the reason why he attended the Ball with me. All that he wanted was to get information from me so he could expose my secrets to the entire school. And Pansy had been in on it. That was why she had interrogated me, but he wanted to be more discreet about his intentions. I should have known better than to trust a boy like him. He was vile and manipulative. And to think that I had even felt bad for him…

I could still hear him calling after me as I darted up the stairs towards the Gryffindor common room. A small voice whispered in my head telling me to turn around. After all, why would he want to speak to me after doing something like this?

"What do you want?" I huffed, almost yelling as I whipped around to look at him.

He was only a few paces behind me. When he saw my face, he stopped dead. "I'm so sorry," he muttered.

"So it was you, wasn't it?" I asked, anger boiling up inside me as I looked into his eyes. These were the very same eyes that I had fallen for the night before, though now they looked dark, like a stormy night sky.

"No," he said, "It wasn't me. It was Pansy."

I didn't believe him. "What reason would Pansy have to do something so spiteful?"

He blinked, his face growing sad. "And what reason would I have? Pansy is jealous of you, and she's vindictive. She's mad at me for going with you. She has been obsessed with me since we were children, and I chose to spend my night with a _Gryffindo_ r instead of her. You know full well that she despises you," his eyebrows slowly inched closer together with every sentence, his forehead creasing.

I stared him down, still unsure. "But you're the only one who knows!"

"She knew something was up with your family at the Ball when I told her off, and she wanted to find out what it was. I never thought that she would search Hogwarts records for it," He said. The waiver in his voice made me know that he was telling the truth. "I wish I could have stopped her, but it was too late."

Instead of being hostile, I took a deep breath. Now I knew that this wasn't his fault, but I still couldn't look at him. I couldn't look at anyone. "Okay, I believe you."

I could see his whole body relax. Voices began to echo up the staircase. "-but you can't blame her," It was Hermione's voice. Panic rose in my throat. With a wave of my hands, I dismissed Draco and ducked through the portrait and into the common room.

Unfortunately, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were not far behind me. As I rushed to the stairs, I heard Hermione call after me. "Olivia, wait," She said. I knew that if I tried to escape now, she would just come after me, so I stopped.

"What? What more do you want from me?" I asked defensively.

They both looked to Harry. "I'm sorry," he sighed, "I shouldn't have lashed out like that. I'm just shocked."

I looked at Ron. "It wasn't completely a secret. All the Weasleys know."

"You knew?" Harry said, sounding angry again.

Ron looked to the floor. "I mean, yeah," he sounded sheepish, "but it wasn't my place to say anything."

"My parents were some of the first Death Eaters sent to Azkaban after Voldemort disappeared. With my dad being Tom Riddle's son, he was in the most inner circle. Dumbledore didn't want me to go to an orphanage, so he sent me to live with Ms. Vance, who has always been close with Molly," I explained. "Who all knows now?"

Harry frowned. "I'm pretty sure the whole school does. And if they don't yet, it wont take long."

I nodded. As much as I hated it, he was right.

The portrait flew open, making me jump. Behind it stood the twins, looking uneasy. "Ollie," Fred sighed. Seeing his face was enough to make the enormous rock in my chest completely dissolve. I knew that he wouldn't judge me for who I was. Neither of them ever had.

George on the other hand was a little less concerned with me, "What was Malfoy doing in the Gryffindor corridor?"

I shrugged, pretending I knew nothing of it. Fred smirked, "Probably looking for his girlfriend." His eyes didn't move from my face.

I rolled my eyes, suddenly defensive. "I'm not his girlfriend. We went on one fake date."

"And then you snuck out to see him after hours," He pointed out. I had almost forgotten that he had seen me leaving last night.

"You did what?" Harry scoffed.

"It was nothing," I said, "We just talked."

Fred raised his eyebrows, "If you say so. Are you sure that he feels the same way? I saw the way he looked at you last night. He didn't even look like Malfoy."

Hermione laughed, "looks like we've finally found his weakness. Powerful, beautiful witches."

"In that case, he would be head over heels for you," I smiled, my worries fading.

The other started to laugh too. After such a short disagreement, everything felt normal again. The twins could always be trusted to diffuse a rough situation with their casual and effortless wit. I had always been a lot closer with Fred than George for some reason. From the moment we met as kids, we became best friends. I had been playing Quidditch in their front garden since I was big enough for a broom. When I was young, I'd had a huge crush on Fred, and George found that hilarious. Molly and Ms. Vance always joked that we would grow up and get married but Fred never reciprocated my romantic interest in him, so that was unlikely. He seemed to only see me as a little sister that he didn't have to live with.

"Can I help you?" Fred asked.

I blinked, realizing that I had been staring at him. I shook my head. "Just thinking," I sighed.

"You know, he's probably the one who did this," Harry said.

I opened my mouth to defend him, but then I caught myself. Maybe it would be better if I kept my feelings for Draco to myself. If they knew, I would never hear the end of it, and it would give Harry all the more reason to be untrusting of me. Besides, sneaking around could be a little fun. I was no stranger to secrets, but I was okay with one like him. No, he wasn't perfect. He was far from it actually. But something about his sparkling silver eyes and the way that he had held me made all of that fade away. He had a beautiful soul beneath his cold exterior and I wanted to get to know everything about it. "Maybe," I lied.

DRACO:

Guilt consumed me. This was all my fault. I had been the one who brought Olivia into my twisted, merciless world. It was my fault that Pansy ever had a reason to be malicious. It was my fault that anything even seemed suspicious. I had somehow gained her trust and subsequently destroyed it. My father would be so pleased with me for this, and that was all that I had ever wanted until now. But for once, I didn't care. All that I cared about was this intense remorse that I was feeling. That, and her. I cared about her.

And because I cared about her, I had to push her away.

I should have never let her in.


	4. four

**Hey y'all! I usually don't leave author's notes, but I just wanted to say thank you for reading! This chapter is a little shorter than normal, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.**

OLIVIA:

The next weeks passed in a bit of a fog. I went to my classes, did my homework, and studied for my O.W.L.s, all while trying to ignore the eyes that were always watching me. To make matters worse, I was positive that Draco was avoiding me. When I called after him in the corridors, he seemed to walk faster, and when I met his eyes in the Great Hall, he would immediately look away. But perhaps I was paranoid.

For the first time in my five years at Hogwarts, I was called into Professor McGonagall's office. During breakfast one morning, an owl swooped in front of me and dropped a small envelope into my lap. It was sealed with the Hogwarts crest, which caused my heart to jump. When I pealed it open and unfolded the note inside, I recognized the professor's sharp script from the blackboard in class.

 _Olivia,_

 _Please stop by my office this afternoon._

 _Professor McGonagall_

The briefness of the request made me even more anxious. Had I done something wrong? Was I in trouble? Infinite possibilities raced through my mind. Maybe she had found out about the time that I had helped Fred and George pull a prank on Angelina Johnson in my second year. Or someone had told her about the self-correcting ink that I had accidentally used on a DADA essay as a first year. Yeah, that had to be it. Immediately I started to formulate excuses and explanations.

A hand came in front of me and swiped the letter away. "What's this?" Fred asked. He read the note. "Ominous," he sighed.

"I've never been in trouble before," I said anxiously.

He rolled his eyes, "It's probably nothing. She wouldn't do anything to you anyway."

I nodded, hoping that he was right. But for the rest of the day, I was unable to focus on any of my lessons, paranoid of the meeting. The hours crawled by and as it grew nearer, I grew tenser.

During Potions, which was a class that I usually enjoyed, I got so frustrated that I felt like knocking my cauldron over. I had been staring at the same line of the recipe for the Draught of Peace for what felt like ages. The potion was supposed to be turning from pink to red, but nothing appeared to be happening.

I double-checked the amount of unicorn horn that I added, but it was correct. But maybe I had measured incorrectly. The ratios for this potion in particular were incredibly important, as adding too much of something could cause put the drinker into a deep -and possibly irreversible- sleep. But if I brewed it correctly, I got to keep it.

I could feel eyes on me, but not the eyes of my classmates. Professor Snape was standing behind me, watching my every move. "Stir," he muttered lowly. I looked up to see him peering into my cauldron, already judging my concoction. I listened, grabbing my spoon and stirring seven times clockwise, and then seven times counter-clockwise. Slowly, the color began to deepen. I sighed, relieved. All around me, potions seemed to be going awry. The disastrous smell of sulphur had filled the room, along with occasional green sparks rising from cauldrons. Just next me, Slytherin's Roy Vasley appeared to be struggling to stir his as it had turned to a cementlike consistency.

"Keep going," Snape spurred on. From the looks of it, I was nearly finished.

After adding a precise amount of powdered moonstone and porcupine quills and allowing it to simmer, it began to glisten a beautiful shade of silver, a sparkling vapor rising from the surface. "Professor!" I called triumphantly, stepping back.

He approached my side, and I suddenly couldn't breathe. I was typically very confident in my abilities, but I was a bundle of nerves.

After a moment of studying the cauldron, he appeared to have decided that it was safe enough to test. "Taste it," he ordered.

I grabbed a ladle and dipped it in. Cautiously, I raised it to my lips with a shaking hand. I swallowed.

Sure enough, every muscle in my body started to relax. My pounding heart began to settle. I could think clearly.

I gave a nod.

"Excellent," Snape hummed. "The Draught of Peace takes much precision and patience. Congratulations, Ms. Vance. Five points to Gryffindor. Class dismissed." He handed me a vile that he had filled, which I tucked inside my robes.

Finally, my day of classes was over and I made my way to the first floor corridor where her office was located.

The door was slightly ajar. I raised my hand to knock but a voice emitted from inside before I could. "Come in," Professor McGonagall said.

I pushed the door back and stepped inside, closing it behind me. The professor was sat behind her large desk, which had a pair of teacups and a plate of biscuits in the middle. "Take a seat, have a biscuit," she ordered. I obliged, though I didn't reach for a treat. I was too nervous to eat. "So, Ms. Vance," I took a deep breath, preparing for her questions, "how are your classes going?"

"They're… good," I said stiffly, confused. Certainly she didn't summon me to discuss my classes.

She nodded and reached for a cup of tea. "Do you feel well prepared for you O.W.L.s?"

"Well enough," I sighed, relaxing a little thinking that if she had something serious to talk about, she would have said so by now. I grabbed my tea and took a sip.

"Professor Snape has said that you are doing very well in potions," she noted. I nodded. Potions was the one class that I felt confident about. "I have heard the whispers about you around the school, I sure hope the attention is not distracting you from your studies."

I tensed up again, not wanting to talk about my parents. She had always known, but I'd rather not be questioned further. "No, I've grown used to it," was all that I said.

She pursed her lips, clearly hoping for something more. "You have done an excellent just so far and we expect great things from you. I just wanted to check and see that you are doing alright," she pressed.

"Yes ma'am," I said curtly. I had spent my whole school career trying to stay under the radar and avoid any kind of attention, positive or negative. Now, even the professors were taking special notice of me. That was my worst nightmare.

She put her cup down, "Alright, that's all."

I put mine down too and stood up, "Thank you, ma'am." And with that, I turned and exited the office.

I needed out of the castle. I needed away from all of the stares. I needed some fresh air. Instinctively, my feet began to carry be to my secret hideaway.

The long, winding cobbled pathway to the boat house felt seemingly endless. As I walked, I thought all about the last few weeks. Somehow, I had gone from the best night of my life to the worst month imaginable. All of my greatest fears were becoming my reality. The sixteen years that I had spent trying to prove myself beyond my bloodlines had gone to waste. I had tried so hard to prove that I was nothing like them, and I knew in my heart that I wasn't. I was in Gryffindor prefect. I was a decent witch. I did well in school. I was okay at Quidditch. But none of that mattered anymore because everybody only cared about names.

When I finally made it down to the boat house, I was ready to relax and be alone. Finding time alone got to be kind of difficult at Hogwarts. Dormitories and common rooms were always filled with other students, as was the library. But I quickly learned that I wouldn't be alone down here either.

Standing on the edge of the dock, staring at the water, was Draco Malfoy.

DRACO:

I watched as the water lapped up against the dock, lost in thought. I had come down to the boat house with the hope that if I reflected on the night that I had spent here with Olivia, I might be able to find some clarity. As the weeks went on, I avoided her as much as possible. She couldn't know that I felt so strongly for her. She couldn't know that this was tearing me apart. But the more time that I spent away from her, the more I thought about it, and the more I wanted to kiss her just one more time.

The sound of footsteps pulled me out of my contemplations. I turned to see who was approaching, and it was the last person that I wanted to see right now. "Draco?" She said softly.

"Olivia," I said under my breath, using everything in me to restrain myself.

She took a few steps closer, now standing next to me. "What are you doing out her?" She asked.

 _Thinking about you,_ I thought to myself. But I replied, "taking a break from studying." She nodded and stared at the water. After ignoring her for so long, I had to say something. I couldn't just run away now. I was cornered. "Are you doing okay?"

She paused for a moment before she answered. "I could do without the stares, but it's alright. Anyone whose opinion matters doesn't care," She pointed out.

While she watched the water, I watched her. Her dark doe eyes didn't have their usual calming softness, but rather looked chaotic and distant. She must have felt my gaze on her, because she turned and met it. "Stares like that," she sighed.

"oh," I gasped, realizing what I had been doing, "I'm sorry."

But she shook her head, "Somehow, it's okay when it's you." A hint of a smile played at her lips. The same beautiful lips that I couldn't get off my mind. Our eye contact held, tension hanging in the air. As I looked into her eyes, I had to restrain myself from leaning in and kissing her. She grabbed my hand and pulled me closer. "I've missed you," She whispered.

"I've missed you too," I said without thinking. Her face inched closer to mine, her hand moving to my shoulder. I wanted to kiss her, I really did. But I couldn't allow myself to give in. I squeezed her hand on my shoulder before picking it up and pushing it away. "I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you anymore." I took a step back.

Her face changed, "What are you talking about?"

"This whole thing is all my fault. You'll be better off without me," I whispered. I tried to turn my cold and forbidding persona back on, but the sad look on her face made it impossible. I couldn't look at her anymore. It hurt too much. Instead, I started to back up towards the castle. "I'm sorry," I repeated before turning around, walking away.

That was the last time that I saw Olivia for several months, with the exception of in the Great Hall and the school corridors. Even then, I tried my hardest to keep my head down and busy myself with something else. Occasionally, I would sneak a glance at her, but on more than one instance, I couldn't pull my eyes away and that only made it hurt was wrong with me? I had never felt this way about anyone before. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get her off my mind. I never thought that I _needed_ anyone in my life, but I was beginning to feel that way about her. How had I managed to get so carried away after just one night together?

It wasn't until one night near the end of June that I truly realized how much I needed her.

 **I would really appreciate it if you left a little review for me! They definitely help me out.**


	5. five

**Hi again! I just realized that with the way that I had formatted the POV changes, they didn't show up (S/O to Beth for pointing it out)! I have updated all of the chapters, so they should be there now. Also, I added a little bit to the previous chapter, so feel free to go back and revisit it. I hope you enjoy this part despite the fact that it's short. As always, don't forget to R &R!**

OLIVIA:

The stands had fallen silent, everyone's eyes on Harry draped over Cedric's body. After getting a look at Cedric's blank face, I pulled my eyes away. I felt sick to my stomach as I looked at the faces of the crowd. Fred, who stood next to me, covered his mouth with his hand, his eyes distant.

"He's back!" Harry shouted.

A few rows over, I caught a glance at Draco. He was staring down at his feet, unmoving. I had ever seen him look so emotionless, his signature sneer absent. He didn't look sad. He looked grim and barren. Even at the sound of Cedric's father wailing into the quiet, Draco didn't flinch. He stayed stone-faced like a statue.

"Get the students away, to their common rooms," I heard Dumbledore say to Professor Snape. Everyone slowly started shuffling out of the stands, still in shock. I followed closely behind Fred, grasping at his arm as to not lose him in the crowd. He turned to look at me to make sure I was alright, and for the first time, in all the years that we had been friends, I saw a tear roll down his cheek. He had never been particularly close with Cedric, but as they were in the same year, they shared many classes. I also assumed that the situation could be rather frightening for him. For the majority of our lives, we always assumed that it was the adults that got to deal with the dangers of our world, but it was suddenly very apparent that that was not the case. We had always been assured, no matter what was going on around us, that Hogwarts was the safest place on earth for us. But one of our classmates had been brutally murdered in a school-endorsed competition.

For the first time in a while, people's stares once again fell onto me. As we were ushered back to the castle, I felt the eyes. A strange fear started to build in my chest as my mind raced. If what Harry said was true, if Voldemort really had returned, then there was a chance that he could come searching for me. He would want me by his side. But I wouldn't allow that. I couldn't allow it. Previously, I had never felt as though I was in danger while at Hogwarts. It truly was a safe space for me. Even when students were being petrified by a basilisk in my third year, and when the danger of Sirius Black sent the whole school into a panic, I knew that everything would end up alright. Not only did I feel safe from the obvious threats of dark magic that came along with being a witch, but I felt safe from my own identity. The walls of this castle helped suppress the darkness that would always live inside of me, the darkness that ran through my veins. But now, I wasn't so sure. Students were dying, and the whole school knew who I was. It was no longer a sanctuary from reality.

As we marched up the many flights of stairs to the Gryffindor tower, the quiet remained over everyone. A few whispers buzzed about, mostly of reassurance and comfort, but for the most part, the only sound was the beat of our footsteps. And that is how the night remained. No one spoke to each other as we prepared for bed, though I wasn't sure how anyone would be able to sleep.

After a quick shower and changing into a comfy pair of shorts and a tank top, I made my way back down to the common room to find Ron and Hermione sitting on opposite ends of the couch silently. They appeared to be waiting for Harry. Fred and George were also there, sitting at one of the many small tables. They were talking to each other in low voices, but immediately stopped when they saw me. "Ollie," they both said quietly. Only they called me that.

My fears wouldn't be dissolved by their smiling faces this time. Clearly, they were both upset, as was the entire school. This time, the looks in their eyes made me want to cry. But, I didn't. I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. They both stood and their arms engulfed me. They seemed to have realized the same thing I had. I was on the top of Voldemort's Wanted list.

DRACO:

I felt a sharp burning sensation on my left forearm. The intense pain forced me to clench my jaw tight, suppressing a scream. Everything around me was dark, a few tall shadows off in the distance.

When I looked down to see where the pain was coming from, a bright glow erupted from my skin. After a few moments, it started to fade, leaving behind a black symbol. It was a symbol of skull with a serpent perturbing from its mouth like a tongue. I could feel my heart plummet inside of my chest. I had seen this symbol many times before. It was identical to the one on my father's arm, though his was much more faint.

I knew what it meant. I knew who it belonged to. And it terrified me.

The pain intensified. I couldn't hold back any longer.

Just as I opened my mouth to scream, my eyes shot open.

I panted as I tried to catch my breath, sitting up straight. I was no longer trapped in a void of darkness. I was in my bed, in the Slytherin dormitory. I pulled my arm out from under the blankets, examining it. The dark mark was no where to be seen.

If Potter was telling the truth and Voldemort had risen, that would be my fate.


	6. six

OLIVIA:

I stood with Fred and George as we watched the students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons making their departures, everyone waving and cheering. After several days had passed, the spirits had slowly begun to lift. The night of the final task seemed to be a distant nightmare, blocked out of our memories for our own good.

"What a year," George said thoughtfully beside me.

I scoffed, "I'll say. Every year I think that Hogwarts couldn't get more eventful than the last, but it never fails to surprise me."

They chuckled, nodded in agreement.

Somewhere behind me, I heard my name. When I turned to see who it was, I saw Draco standing just a few feet away. "Can I talk to you really quick?" he asked.

I smiled slightly, "of course."

As I started to walk away, following him to somewhere more private, Fred whispered, "be careful."

I followed Draco back into the entrance hall and down a dark and quiet corridor. He stopped and turned back to face me when he deemed we were far enough away from everybody.

"What's up?" I asked, trying hard not to remember the last time we talked.

He looked down at me and I saw a look in his eyes that I had never seen before. He looked strained and exhausted, like he hadn't slept in a week. "Olivia, I'm scared," he whimpered. "I don't want to go home. I don't want You-Know-Who to be back." His voice was shaking and his lower lip quivered.

"Draco, sweetheart," I gasped, pulling him into a hug. "It's okay. It's going to be okay."

He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed me tight. I heard him stifle a sob into my shoulder. I had spent so long trying to forget about him that I never thought of how he might be feeling about Voldemort's return. I had to experience my greatest fear this year, my fear of my identity. And now, he was facing his. He wouldn't openly admit it, but I knew that he was terrified of his father. Seeing how much this predicament scared him, and seeing how pressured he felt to follow orders, I truly hurt for him. I had never seen the snobby, arrogant Malfoy look so helpless.

He started to pull away. I caressed his cheek, desperate to comfort him. "I never thought this would actually happen. My father always spoke of his return, but I didn't believe it," he said sadly.

I nodded, understanding. I had overheard Ms. Vance and the rest of the Order members speaking of the possibility, but I dismissed it as outlandish paranoia. Now it was here. It was happening. "Maybe it isn't," I said hopefully. "We don't know anything for sure. All that we have is Harry's word."

Draco looked surprised. "But you're friends with Harry. Do you not believe him?"

"I do believe him, but there's a piece of me that's skeptical. There isn't any proof."

He didn't look so sure. "I hope so." In the dark of the corridor, I could see the dark circles beneath his eyes. Voldemort's return was already tormenting him and he hadn't even left the school yet. "I keep having this dream," he said, breaking our eye contact and looking down at his arm. "I have his mark on me. What if that's the future? What if that is what I become?"

I didn't know what to say to him. Of course that wasn't what I wanted to happen, but escaping the vice grip that his father had on his life seemed nearly impossible. And if he somehow managed to, he would certainly be on Voldemort's bad side. Instead of speaking, I pressed a gentle kiss into his cheek. "That isn't who you are. Draco, _you aren't evil_. It isn't your fault that you were raised by a man who's only concern is power and how to get more of it."

"But it is who I am. Sometimes, I have these thoughts. Thoughts that say that I am better than everyone around me. They say that I need to defend the Pureblood way. The first word that I think when I see Granger is _mudblood._ Sometimes, I feel this furious thirst for power. I enjoy pushing Crabbe and Goyle around, getting them to do my bidding. I am just as bad as my father is. No matter how hard I try, I can't get them out of my head. I can't control it." He was getting visibly angrier as he spoke, upset with himself for allowing those things to cross his mind. His hands, which had fallen away from me, were in tight fists at his sides. Everything about him was tense with a mixture of fear and anger.

I shook my head. "Draco, that's okay. That is what you have been conditioned to think. The important thing is that you know that it's not right."

He wouldn't look at me. Instead, his eyes were trained on a spot on the cobbled floor. "I don't want to be like him. I'm tired of being what he wants me to be. But I don't want to disappoint my parents. Everything I do is already a mistake to them."

Even though his situation was the complete opposite of mine, I could empathize with his desire for validation. I had never sought approval from my parents, but I looked for it in everyone else around me. I had always felt an immense amount of pressure—most of it self-imposed— to be perfect, to prove that I was nothing like my parents. That was why I tried so hard in my classes. That was why I played quidditch. That was why I did anything the way that I did. But unfortunately for Draco, the pressure that he felt was not pushing him in a positive direction. "I'm so sorry. I wish that there was something I could do, some spell I could cast, that could make that all go away. But I can't. You deserve so much more than this." I was at a loss for words. I knew that nothing I said would make his pain and turmoil go away, but I wanted him to understand that he wasn't alone in this fight.

"I definitely don't deserve you," he said, the nervousness back in his voice. His hand reached up and grabbed my chin and he planted a firm kiss on my lips. It was a familiar sensation that I hadn't felt in so long, and I hadn't fully realized how much I had missed it. "I'm sorry I pushed you away. I didn't mean it to hurt you. I wanted to protect you from _this_ ," he whispered. And suddenly it all made sense to me. He wasn't just upset that our involvement caused my big secret to leak. He was scared that his darkness would scare me away or hurt me in some way. He didn't want to drag me into his path of destruction.

"It's okay," I whispered, "I'm not afraid of the dark."

DRACO:

The trip back to London felt longer than ever before. I spent most of the journey staring out the window of our compartment at the English scenery as it flew by. Beside me, Pansy clung to my arm as Crabbe and Goyle stuffed their mouths with sweets from the trolley. Pansy carried on gossiping about other students, which I did my best to tune out. Instead, I lost myself in thought.

The taste of Olivia's kiss still clung to my lips, even though a whole night had passed since we spoke. I was grateful for it though, as it took my mind off of everything else around me falling apart. I contemplated going to find her, but I thought better of it. We had agreed to keep our relationship (if you could call it that) a secret. It was safer for both of us to stay quiet, but it was so hard to be away from her for so long. All that I wanted to do right now was find an empty compartment, pull the shades down, and feel her soft lips against mine again. But that wasn't possible.

I imagined that she was in the same compartment as always with her Weasley sidekicks. In years previous, I had seen the three of them sitting together, and usually laughing. Sometimes they were joined by other members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. And I remembered the overwhelming jealously that the sight made me feel.

I had always been so jealous of their friendship, not because I liked Olivia, but because I had never had something as genuine as that with my friends. I was jealous of that level of companionship.

I was also jealous of those Weasley boys. In my head (or rather, the head that my father created), I knew that I was better than they were. I had money and status that they were too poor to even dream of, and that was how I treated them. But wealth wasn't everything. I was jealous of them and their family. Being an only child often grew quite lonely, no matter how much money your parents had. They always had each other, no matter what. You wouldn't see one without the other. And I was jealous of the love they got from their parents. They didn't have much, but the love made up for that. Their dad, Arthur, worked long and hard days at the Ministry to put all seven of them through school, which was incredibly admirable of him. They clearly wanted to create the best life possible for all of the children, even if it didn't involve a huge mansion, luxury robes, or fancy broomsticks. And they were all so happy with the things that they did have. I would kill for a life like that.

No, I wouldn't. I would not kill.

The shrill sound of Pansy's voice pulled me out of my own thoughts. "—explains why she's such a suck up. Don't you think Dracey?"

I pulled my eyes away from the window. "Who?" I asked.

"Olivia _Riddle_ , silly," She huffed.

I had to hold myself back from defending her. That would look too suspicious. "I don't know," I sighed. "I've never noticed."

"Have you been listening to a word I've said?"

I shook my head honestly. "No, not really."

She scoffed and let go of my arm, crossing hers and turning away from me. Maybe she would finally leave me alone. But, alas, I was wrong. "I don't know what's gotten into you, but I don't like it," She muttered.

"Nothing has gotten into me."

She didn't like that answer. "Every since you went out with that stupid girl, you've been such a stick in the mud."

 _She's not stupid_ , I thought to myself. In fact, she was at the top of her class. "It has nothing to do with her," I said. That was only halfway true. Yes, I was tired of dealing with Pansy's snobby nature, but what she had done to Olivia really pushed me over the edge. "You're always on about the same things. It gets a bit boring."

"You're the one who usually starts it!" She said, raising her voice slightly. She was kind of right. I did occasionally speak very negatively of the others around us, but that was merely because that was what I was taught. "Maybe I should go find Blaise. He would listen to me."

"By all means," I said, knowing that she wouldn't actually leave. She wouldn't leave my side no matter how hard I tried to push her away. That would be social suicide for her. I could say whatever I wanted to her and she would always come crawling back. Just as I thought, she stayed put.

I was doing it again. I was using my status as a way of manipulation.

For the rest of the train journey, that guilt ate at me relentlessly. A small voice in my head whispered that she had deserved it, that was her punishment for speaking to me like that. But in my heart, I knew it was wrong. She was not lesser than I. I had spoken to her in the same way that I had seen my father speak to many people, including my mother. That was unacceptable.

I wanted to apologize, but that would be far too out of character. I had to remind myself that, even though I was trying to better myself as a person, I couldn't let it show.

Our compartment remained relatively silent until we returned to King's Cross, with the exception of Crabbe and Goyle's munching. When the train started to slow, I could feel my heartbeat quicken anxiously. This was it. I was going home in defeat, unable to escape this vicious cycle.

I could see my father's head of silvery blonde hair among the crowd on the platform. His arms were crossed stiffly across his chest, a scowl permanently embedded on his face. An uncontrollable fear bubbled deep inside of me, making me feel sick to my stomach. But I was used to this feeling. That was how his face always made me feel.


	7. seven

OLIVIA:

When I thought about the summer to come, I never imagined it to be any different than normal. I thought about living with Ms. Emmeline Vance in our maisonette near Whitehall, spending most of my days alone while she worked at the Ministry. I thought of my occasional weekend trips to the Burrow, tossing around a quaffle with the boys in the front garden. I thought of a summer as unremarkable as all of my others. But what I got was far from that.

When the train arrived at King's Cross, I got off with Fred and George behind me. As always, Emmeline stood with the Weasleys. But there was something different about it this time. Several other people stood around them, all looking incredibly stern. I recognized them as Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, and Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"What's going on?" I asked as I approached, instantly knowing that something was up.

Emmeline looked distressed, her eyes darting from me to the others around her. "Olivia, dear," She sighed, but Kingsley cut her off.

"Not here," he growled. He, along with the others, was tense and on edge. None of them looked at me directly. They glanced around the platform as if they were expecting something to jump out at any moment. "We will discuss it when we get back to headquarters. Let's get a move on."

I followed as they began to push through the crowd towards the exit from the platform without another word, more confused than ever. What was this 'headquarters' that Kingsley spoke of? Were we in danger?

Behind me, Fred and George spoke in low voices. I couldn't quite make out what they were talking about, but I caught the words "You-Know-Who" and "hiding". I tried to look calm, but my mind was racing at a million miles per hour. I hated not knowing.

As we were leaving, I caught a glance at Draco and his parents. His mother embraced him, and his father lay a firm hand on his shoulder, emotionless. I pulled my eyes away when Arthur Weasley's arm fell across my own shoulders. "I hear it has been an interesting year for you," he said.

I nodded, but a smile crept onto my face. Arthur was like a father to me and his presence, much like his sons', was incredibly comforting. "When is a year at Hogwarts ever not interesting?" I joked, though the statement held truth.

He chuckled, "Very true." His hand positioned me in front of the plain brick wall and we broke into a run, passing through the wall.

As we pushed our way through the station, I kept catching Lupin and Tonks glancing at me nervously, as if they were expecting something to pop out and sweep me away. Their looks of concern didn't make me feel any more comforted. I wasn't exactly afraid of any present danger, because I knew that while I was surrounded by these strong witches and wizards, nothing would hurt me. But I was certainly disconcerted. Nonetheless, I followed without question. They knew what they were doing.

The streets of London were incredibly crowded, as usual. We probably looked like a right odd bunch carrying trunks, owls, and broomsticks, but the muggles didn't seem to take any particular interest. We walked in silence, blindly following behind Kingsley. Emmeline walked a few paces ahead of me, clearly restraining herself from saying anything to me.

We walked for what felt like forever, winding through the dark streets of London. We gradually grew farther away from the crowds and into a quiet residential area. Finally, Kingsley stopped in his tracks and raised his wand.

On the rather unassuming street lined with muggle houses, the buildings began to rattle and shove apart, revealing a dark looking home.

Kingsley approached the house, Lupin following closely behind him. When the tip of his wand touched the door handle, it swung open. Arthur's hand was on my shoulder again, ushering me towards the house. I climbed the steps and stepped inside. I found myself standing at the mouth of a long hallway, lit by gas lamps and a large chandelier looming overhead. Ornate portraits lined nearly every inch of the paper covered walls, the most prominent one depicting a wild looking grey woman. At one time, it may have been a beautiful grand entryway, but now it was gloomy and cobwebby, with the wallpaper peeling off, moth-eaten drapes, and the carpet worn thin. "Welcome to Order headquarters," said a voice deeper inside the home. From one of the many doorways appeared a distantly familiar face, crowned with a head of stringy black hair. "I'm Sirius," he greeted, "you must be Ms. Olivia."

I felt my jaw flap open as I stared at him. That was where I recognized him from: the wanted posters and front pages of the Daily Prophet. I had heard many stories about him from Harry and his friends, but I had never seen him in person. "Y-yes sir. You're Sirius? Sirius Black?"

"That's the name. Don't wear it out," he smiled, shaking my hand. He had a warm smile for someone who had spent twelve years in Azkaban.

I turned to the others behind me. "What are we doing here?" I asked finally.

Everyone looked around at each other. They were hiding something from me, and I was determined to find out what it was.

"Boys, Ginny, make yourselves busy elsewhere. We have much to discuss," Molly ordered.

I looked up at Fred, suddenly scared that they were leaving my side. They were always at my side. "I want Fred and George to stay," I requested boldly. It wasn't like me to speak out like that, but with everything around me so unfamiliar, I needed something comfortable.

Molly looked at Kingsley. He gave a sharp nod before pushing past Sirius. I followed.

Everyone took a seat around the long dining table, looking even more serious than before (though I didn't believe that possible). "Olivia," Kingsley began, "I assume that you have been made aware of the return of You-Know-Who."

I nodded, "Yes sir."

"Well, we believe that with his return, you and those closest to you are in incredible danger," he said bluntly.

"Kingsley," Emmeline gasped beside me, clutching my arm, "don't scare her! She is only a girl."

He furrowed his brow, "She is not a child, Vance. She deserves to know the truth." When no one objected, he continued, "With the guidance of Albus Dumbledore, we have determined that this is the safest place for you this summer. It would be no surprise if You-Know-Who was out there looking for you, seeing as you are his granddaughter as well as being close with Mr. Harry Potter. It is far too great of a risk to have you roaming the streets."

I took a deep breath. The well-worn walls felt as if they were closing in on me. This place gave me the creeps. How could I spend the whole summer locked up in here? But I would not argue. Instead, I sighed, "So, I can't leave at all?"

Lupin spoke up, "It would be very ill-advised."

And just like that, all of my hopes for the summer had completely disappeared. There would be no quaint maisonette. There would be no trips to the Burrow. And there would certainly not be any games of Quidditch. Suddenly, I found myself longing for the normality that I had begun to grow rather bored of. "The Weasleys will be here also?" I asked desperately, glancing at Molly across the table.

She nodded. "We will come and go, but yes. We will reside here with you for the majority of the time," Arthur said reassuringly.

George perked up, "We will?" Nobody answered him.

"What am I to do all day?" I questioned.

Sirius grinned, "Well, the place could use some work. I was hoping you wouldn't mind assisting me in restoring it for use by the Order. Myself and Remus have also been instructed to teach you as many defensive skills as we can."

That peaked my interest. Ever since I had started at Hogwarts, the Defense Against the Dark Arts department had been a bit lacking, with the exception of Remus himself. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad after all. I had a lot to catch up on.

"This is the safest house there is," Lupin said. "It's shielded by almost every enchantment possible."

I turned to Emmeline, "And you'll be here with me?"

Her face turned sullen. She opened her mouth to answer, but Kingsley beat her to it. "Emmeline must continue her work at the Ministry. We feel that it would be best to keep you two separated. It would be unsafe to have her leaving and returning every day, as You-Know-Who will likely know where to find her."

Although the point made sense, I didn't like it. "But you said that those close to me are in danger as well! There is no one closer than her!" I argued.

"Sweetheart," Emmeline gasped. It was very unlike me to get worked up like this. "I would much rather them catch me than you. You are far more valuable."

Kingsley took a deep breath. "If You-Know-Who truly is looking for you-"

"Voldemort," I huffed, "His name is Voldemort."

Molly's hand clutched her chest, stunned at the sound of his name. She did this every time I said the name. The only other person who she heard use it was Harry.

I didn't mean to get angry or lash out. All of the emotions from the last weeks were piling up and hitting me at once. The despair, the worry, the fear. It had all grown a bit much to handle at one time. "He's already hunting for me. What more damage could using the name do?" I asked calmly. No one seemed eager to answer.

"Shall I show you to your room?" Sirius suggested, rising from the table. I, too, stood up and followed him up several flights of stairs to the topmost floor.

At the top of the stairs was a large landing with high ceilings. Several couches sat unused and covered in dust. There was a door on either side of the room, the farther one marked with a sign that read " _Do Not Enter Without the Express Permission of Regulus Arcturus Black_ ". Sirius, however, approached it unfazed and opened the door.

The room was large, and like most of the house, had seen better days. I could tell that it had once been beautiful, with a carved wooden headboard on the bed, velvet curtains, and fine wall hangings and furniture. But that wasn't the thing that struck me about the room. The walls were decked out with Slytherin colors and banners. A Black family crest was painted over the bed and newspaper clippings about Voldemort donning the walls. My heart dropped.

"My apologies for the decor," Sirius said glumly. "The room previously belonged to my brother. Go ahead and make yourself comfortable, if that's possible." He put down my trunk, which he had carried up from downstairs, and disappeared back to the lower floors.

Just as I began to unpack, I heard footsteps outside the door. I looked up to see the twins peering inside. "Cozy," Fred remarked sarcastically.

"It's not so bad," I said halfheartedly. "I reckon the ceilings are high enough to fly a broomstick." They laughed, both looking up to assess the possibility.

"Ollie," Fred said, suddenly sounding serious, "are you scared?"

I met his eyes. "I'm absolutely terrified," I said flatly, not even able to joke anymore.

George's gaze slowly fell from the ceiling back to me. "What do you reckon he would want with you?" He asked. "Would he want you to be a Death Eater? Or would he kill you?"

I shrugged, not having put much thought into it, "I don't know. But I'm not sure which would be worse." But I did know that. I would much rather die than be forced to fight by his side. I would rather die than be put through the torment that I had seen within Draco.

Fred's expression grew darker yet. "Ollie, if You-Know-Who is out there, then you-"

He was interrupted by the creak of the door opening again. Behind it stood Ron and Ginny, both looking bewildered by the decorations. "What was all that about?" Ron asked innocently.

George shook his head, "It's not-"

I cut him off. "George, they deserve to know."

"Mum won't be happy," Fred pointed out, but I waved him off. She was never angry with me.

"With Voldemort back, they are afraid that he might come looking for me," I explained, "so they're keeping all of us here for the summer." I breathed deep, not allowing the anger from before to surface.

Ron gave me a worried look.

"We? Like, us too?" Ginny asked.

Fred nodded. "Us too."

There was a tense silence among them, no one knowing what to say. But as I looked around at them a strange sort of excitement brewed inside of me. This summer may not be what I had expected, but it was a new adventure, and I was glad that I got to share it with them.

"Olivia!" I heard echo up the stairs. It was Emmeline.

I stepped out onto the landing, "Yes?"

"I am about to head home," She said. I could hear the strain in her voice. She clearly didn't want to leave me here with these people, but she knew that it was the safest thing for me. Perhaps I could learn a lesson or two from that. I loped down the many flights of stairs, back into the entryway.

She was stood in front of the door, staring up at the portraits on the wall. "This isn't the place that I imagined I would be leaving you," she said.

"This isn't how I imagined I'd be spending the summer," I pointed out,

She was silent for a moment before turning to face me. "Sirius Black is a good man," She whispered. This, I already knew. "He only wants to help you."

I nodded. I appreciated his help, though I wished that I didn't need it. "Will you write to me?" I asked.

"Of course I will write to you, my dear." She pulled me into an embrace, her head resting perfectly on my shoulder. We were about the same height, but that was where the resemblance stopped. I looked quite like my father, Kieran Riddle, who incidentally looked exactly like his own father Tom. I shared his same dark hair and eyes, along with his pale, olive toned skin. Not only was our coloring the same, but I also had inherited his bone structure: defined cheekbones and jawline, as well as a tall and thin frame. Emmeline on the other hand had lighter hair, pale eyes and rosy skin. Though we didn't look anything like family, she was the closest thing I had.

She kissed my forehead lightly, as she had done from the time I was a little girl. "Be careful," she whispered. And with that, she turned and opened the door. I watched as she left and disappeared down the dark street.

DRACO:

"I expected better of you, my son," my father huffed. These words came as no surprise to me, as nothing I ever did was enough for him. I could feel his eyes burning into me, but I refused to look up at him. Instead, I stared down at my dinner plate, pushing around bits of cottage pie with my fork. I wasn't at all hungry. I had only been home for a matter of days and the abuse had already begun.

"I'm sorry, father," I said distractedly.

He shook his head, "I don't want to hear your apologies. It's the same thing every year, and your marks never improve."

I knew that wasn't true. In fact, I thought that I had done fairly well in most of my classes this year. But apparently he disagreed. "I won't let it happen again."

My mother was watching me as well. As always, she didn't say anything to defend me, but nor did she express any sort of disapproval. She simply stood by and watched my father berate and belittle me. But she was just as afraid of him as I was. I glanced up at her for a split second, somewhat pleading for her to step in. I knew that she wouldn't, but it was worth a shot. "I don't feel very well," I muttered, "May I be excused?"

This wasn't entirely a lie. The constant pressure would sometimes make me feel sick to my stomach or like I was suffocating. Though currently, I was merely trying to get away from it before it got worse.

"Are you alright, sweetheart?" My mother asked, her expression softening.

I nodded slightly, "I just need to go lie down."

My father put his fork down. "Fine," he breathed, "it might do you some good to think about your negligence."

"Yes, sir," I said as I stood up and retreated to my bedroom.

My room wasn't any more cheery than the rest of our house. Despite the high ceilings and large windows, it still managed to feel dark and gloomy. I sat down on my large four-poster bed and pulled out my quill and a piece of parchment. Words swam through my mind as I struggled to think of how to start the letter, but once the ink touched the parchment, it all seemed to flow right out of me.

 _Olivia,_

 _I already cannot wait for the start of term. This house is already miserable._

 _My father's dark mark is back. He hasn't stopped talking about it all week. I am afraid that Harry was right. You-Know-Who has really returned. He is already talking about plans for me to receive one of my own. But I don't want one of my own. My mother insists that he waits until I am of age, but he says there is not enough time to wait. I am scared._

 _How are you finding London? Is it good to be back home? When are you supposed to receive your O.W.L. results? I hope you are well and I miss you a lot. Please stay safe._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Draco Malfoy._

It wasn't a very long letter, but I really didn't have very much to say. All that I wanted was to talk to her, to know that she was still there. She hadn't admitted it, but she must have been terrified as well.

I rolled the parchment back up and made my way to one of the many windows, throwing it open. Almost immediately, I saw a large shadow descend from the clouds. My owl, whom I had named Hamlet, perched on the windowsill, eager to be given a job to do. Somewhat hastily, I tied the letter to his leg and fed him a treat. "Good boy," I whispered to him. He cooed softly before taking off. I watched as he disappeared into the distance, wishing for the freedom that owls were given.


	8. eight

OLIVIA:

"Fantastic," Remus grinned as he stood up and brushed himself off. "Now, try it again, but non-verbally," he instructed.

I looked to Sirius nervously, who stood on the opposite side of the top floor landing with his arms crossed. I really didn't like practicing dueling spells on Remus. Even after a couple of weeks of practice, I felt guilty about hitting him with jinxes and hexes. But no matter what, he didn't complain. Sirius gave me a nod, "You're doing very well. Keep going," he encouraged.

I took a deep breath and turned back to Remus.

"Whenever you're ready," he said, bracing himself for the spell.

With a swift wave of my wand, I yelled _Levicorpus!_ inside my head. Just the same as before, his feet swung out from underneath him and above his head, leaving him dangling in midair. Quite honestly, I was surprised that anything happened at all. Nonverbal magic wasn't taught until the sixth year at Hogwarts, which I wasn't entering until September.

"Yes!" He exclaimed while hanging upside down. "Excellent!"

Sirius flourished his own wand and Lupin fell back to the ground with a thud. "You learn rather quickly," he noted.

Remus nodded his agreement, "Standard dueling spells aren't particularly challenging, though they usually take more than a few repetitions to get them down. I must say, I am impressed with your teachability. You must be very bright to have mastered nonverbal casting as well."

I smiled, not knowing what to say. It wasn't often that I was praised for my intelligence. "What's next?" I asked eagerly.

They both shook their heads. "I think that is enough for one afternoon," Remus sighed, "though I admire your enthusiasm. Tomorrow, we will begin to work on conjuring a Patronus. This will be much more difficult than anything we have practiced thus far. You'll need to be rested. Good work today though."

"Thank you," I said awkwardly. I didn't take compliments well. Together, they both disappeared down the stairs, leaving me alone on the landing. I retreated back to my room, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of our afternoon of hard work. When I opened the door, the massive owl was back, perched on the back of an armchair. He cooed softly at the sight of me. By now, he had grown to recognize my face. I walked over and stroked the top of his head.

There was another letter tied to his leg. Draco and I had been writing back and forth all summer, speaking about nothing in particular, but trying to keep our minds off of the real world situation. As much as I loved having Fred and George around, I didn't like to discuss anything too serious with them. They were always so jubilant and cheerful and I hated to bring them down. I was so grateful that I had someone like Draco to talk to. I hadn't told him where I was, but he knew that I was being kept in hiding. I told him about the lessons that I had been receiving and he seemed a bit envious.

I unfurled the letter and sat down on the chair to read it, absentmindedly petting Hamlet's head. In it, he talked about a book on Alchemy that he had snuck from his father's library. Though I wasn't particularly interested in Alchemy, I liked reading about the small joys that he had found, despite everything else. He also wrote about the nightmare he had been having. It was the same one that he had told me about at the end of term, but it had gotten more frequent and vivid. Reading about it in such detail made my stomach twist into knots. I could see it behind my eyes, the Dark Mark etched into his pale skin. I could see the pained look on his beautiful face. And worst of all, I could hear his agonizing scream echoing in my mind. My heart ached for him.

I put the letter down in my lap as I read his last few lines, taking a deep breath. His last lines hung in my mind. _It's going to happen one day, and there is nothing I can do to stop it._ My heart clenched, knowing that he was right. I had been trying so hard to escape the influence of the Dark Arts for my entire life, but I had just gone and gotten myself romantically involved with a future Death Eater.

But this was different. This had to be different. He didn't want this any more than I did. He was not like his parents. He was not like _my_ parents.

I wrote him back, attempting to provide some level of comfort. I also told him of the loneliness that I was beginning to feel. Even with the company of Remus, Sirius, and all of the Weasleys, the confinement to the inside of this house had started to grow incredibly isolating. He, more than anyone, knew that I loved to be outside, but I hadn't seen the sunlight in over a month. That certainly didn't remedy the fear and anxiety that had been festering inside of me since the end of term.

Carefully, I folded my letter and gave it to Hamlet. He snatched it in his talons before disappearing back into the unlit fireplace and out the chimney.

I remained there, sat in the armchair contemplatively, thinking back to the times that I had spent with Draco. I remembered his dimpled smile and the glint in his eye when he spoke about something he loved. I remembered the way that he made my heart flutter just by looking at me. And then there were the little things, like the way that his grey eyes always reflected his mood, growing darker and stormier when he was angry or upset. Or the way that his nimble fingers pulled at his clothes when he got nervous.

A creaking floorboard pulled me from my thoughts. My eyes flashed up to see Sirius looming in the doorway. "Am I interrupting?" He asked respectfully. I shook my head. "I just wanted to say that we are both very proud of your progress so far."

I smiled slightly, "Thank you."

"I have to admit, I was a bit nervous about teaching you after seeing you yell at Kingsley like you did," he grinned, stepping farther into the room.

A small laugh escaped my lips, but I didn't say anything in return.

"Olivia," He said, suddenly sounding deathly serious, "I see a lot of myself in you." He leaned against the mantlepiece, his eyes resting on me softly. "We are both sort of the odd ones out of our families. You and I, we both come from a long line of Slytherins."

I nodded, agreeing. "Did you ever feel like you were trapped? Like no matter how hard you tried, there would always be that bit of darkness inside of you?" I had been wanting to ask someone that for a long time. Throughout my entire life, no matter my house or the marks I made in school, I could always feel it like a dark cloud looming over me, casting its shadow on everything I did.

"Definitely," he sighed, "And it doesn't go away. But it certainly helps to surround yourself with the right people. Those Weasley boys seem to care a great deal about you."

I smiled at the mention of them. "I don't know what I would do without them."

"You know, I knew your parents when we were at Hogwarts. We were in the same year," He noted. He was staring at one of the many photographs that rested on the mantle beside him.

The mention of my parents had the complete opposite effect. I felt my lips curl into an involuntary scowl. "What were they like?"

"Absolutely fowl," He said matter-of-factly, pulling his eyes away from the photos. "And nothing like you. I can guarantee that. When I was told that I would be teaching magic to a Riddle, I was quite honestly horrified. But Remus assured me that you were something special, something different. He was certainly right about that."

I could feel my cheeks growing red hot in embarrassment.

"You are far more powerful than you understand, and that can be very dangerous. But you also have to power to help so many people. The blood of the second most powerful wizard of all time runs through your veins. That doesn't have to be a bad thing. Voldemort may have fallen to the Dark Arts, but he was also at the top of his class at Hogwarts, as was your father. And it seems that you have kept that tradition," he said lightheartedly.

I shook my head, not wanting to accept his praise "I'm no Hermione Granger."

He laughed, "Sure Hermione is very clever, but book smarts are nothing against natural born talent. Of course that is nothing against her, she is a phenomenal witch. But power cannot be learned from a textbook."

Perhaps he was right. Hermione was what everyone at Hogwarts aspired to be. She truly was the brightest of us all, and she made the best marks possible. The professors adored her. But perhaps knowledge wasn't everything.

He reached forward and picked up the photo that had captured his attention. "Your father played Quidditch with Regulus. They were very good friends." He made his way over to me and offered me the picture. I took it. "Kieran was the best Keeper that Slytherin had seen in years. He went his entire sixth year without being scored upon. Team captain as well."

My jaw fell open. I had never heard of such a feat happening at Hogwarts, possible because people refrained from speaking of my father. I watched the picture. My father stood in the very center, a sly smile spread across his face. He looked exactly like what I had seen of him before, mostly photos of his trial and arrest from the Daily Prophet. But he was also entirely different. He looked almost normal. "What about my mom?" I asked. I had heard plenty about him, but she was entirely a mystery to me.

Sirius pursed his lips, "Anastasia was gorgeous. The girl that every guy fawned over. But everyone was also terrified of her. A real temptress."

I nodded, trying to process it. When I remained silent in thought, Sirius sighed. "Well, I will leave you to your thoughts. I look forward to our Patronus lesson tomorrow."

I saw quiet as he turned away, but a question burned inside of me as he made it to the door. "Sirius?" I prompted.

"Yes?"

"What made you keep the name? Your family wasn't exactly the best influence, but why did you still refer to yourself as a Black?"

He smiled pensively. "It's a part of who I am. It's a reminder of how far I have come," he whispered.

I nodded again, gears turning over in my mind. He was right. Denying who I was only gave my parents more influence over me.

"Keep your enemies close, Olivia Vance," He said boldly.

That name was a lie. As much as Emmeline had helped me throughout my life, as much as I loved her, I was not her daughter. "Riddle," I stated. "Olivia Riddle."

DRACO:

I sat perched in the window of my bedroom, a book delicately balanced in my hand. I had had my nose buried in this book seemingly all summer long. I had several more stashed beneath my bed, hidden from my parents. Most of them belonged to my father and I had to sneak them out of his library without him noticing.

Reading had become my escape from everything else happening in my life. I wasn't particularly picky about what I read, as long as it didn't involve any kind of dark magic (though ruled out a lot of things in my father's library). I had found a lot of interesting topic over the last few weeks, anything from Alchemy to House-Elf Psychology.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy!" A booming voice echoed up the stairs, making me jump in surprise. Instantly, my heart rate doubled. It was my father, and he sounded angry.

Quickly, I shoved the book underneath my pillows and threw open the door. "Yes, sir?" I asked nervously.

"Get down here, boy!" He yelled. Suddenly, I felt like I was going to be sick. What had I done that could make him so angry? Had he found out about the books?

 _He's always angry,_ I reminded myself, but that didn't help. I ran down the stairs urgently as not to keep him waiting. He was standing at the other end of the grand entry, his arms crossed menacingly.

"Is there anything you wish to tell me?" He asked as I approached.

I shook my head, "N-no sir." And then I saw it. Clenched in his hand was a folded piece of parchment: a letter. I stopped in my tracks in the center of the room. How had he gotten ahold of it?

"Then do you care to explain _this_?" He held the letter up. I could feel my throat closing up, forbidding me from speaking. "How dare you associate with this Olivia Riddle. She is a blood traitor and an embarrassment to her family. Do you understand this?"

He tossed the letter aside and took a couple steps closer to me, reaching a hand out and grasping my shoulder. Instinctively, I clenched my fists at my sides to hide my shaking. "I asked you a question, my boy," he growled threateningly, his grip growing tighter, nails digging into my robes. I couldn't bring myself look up at him. My eyes remained locked on the ground at my feet. I felt the head of his serpent cane press into my chin, forcing me to meet his stare.

"Yes," I said fearfully, "I understand."

Clearly, he wasn't satisfied with my response. He shoved me away, quickly whispering a curse. I tensed before it even hit me, bracing for the pain. I feel to my knees and gritted my teeth to keep from crying out, white-hot knives piercing every inch of my skin. The pain was so intense, so all-consuming, that I could no longer see what was in front of me. But this was I pain that I knew. I had felt this before.

Eventually, the pain began to subside, but I remained withering on the floor, weakened by the blow. I raised my chin to meet his eyes, staring down the length of his wand. I could see my mother standing in the doorway behind him, watching. How could a mother stand so idly and watch her son be so brutally tortured by her husband?

"Father," I pleaded, "I'm sorry. I won't let it happen again." Speaking those words hurt me more than I had expected. I couldn't possibly stop writing to Olivia.

"Sorry?" He snarled, "Malfoys do not escape their punishment." He flicked his wrist again and the pain was back, this time even stronger than before. But once again, it faded after a matter of seconds.

"Mother, please," I begged, staring up at her helplessly. Hot tears began to involuntarily fill my eyes.

She looked at my father. "Lucius," she whispered. But it was too late. I was hit yet again with the curse. This time I doubled over, unable to fight the agony any longer. I was screaming more loudly than I'd ever screamed in my life. Wave after wave of pain washed over me until my father seemed to lose interest.

"Pathetic," he spat as he hovered just above me, "you are no son of mine." Finally, he turned away and disappeared down the corridor with my mother at his heels.

And I never wrote to Olivia again.


	9. nine

OLIVIA:

Remus and Sirius were watching me closely, the pressure of their stares making me incredibly nervous. "Don't get discouraged," Sirius said comfortingly, "a Patronus is an incredibly difficult form of magic. You aren't meant to get it perfect on the first try."

Remus nodded. "Maybe we should call it a day and try again tomorrow," he suggested.

I shook my head defiantly, determined to get it right. So far, I had managed to produce small amounts of a silvery shield, but nothing that would protect me from a horde of Dementors. "One more time," I insisted despite the fact that I was incredibly exhausted.

"Only one more," Sirius said cautiously.

I took a deep breath and raised my wand. I attempted to focus my mind on my happiest memories, an image of myself alongside the Weasley family at the dinner table at the Burrow. Everyone was smiling, and I finally felt like I belonged. " _Expecto Patronum!_ " I said confidently.

A stream of silver mist rose from the tip of my wand, curling up into the air. Unlike before, the mist didn't cease almost immediately, continuing to grow. A faint form began to take shape, growing brighter as I tried to remain focused.

"Yes!" I heard them cheer behind me.

"That's it," Remus exclaimed.

But I tried not to allow their excitement to distract me. I kept my eyes trained on the air in front of me, watching the form as it moulded into a large bird, a bird of prey.

I heard Sirius gasp, "a falcon!"

I smiled triumphantly. I had finally done it. After a whole morning's worth of work, I had conjured a full Patronus.

Through the satisfaction, a wave of exhaustion came over me and I fell back onto the couch. Immediately, they both rushed to my side. "Are you alright?" Remus asked.

I nodded, "just a bit drained."

They both looked at each other. "Perhaps this crash course style of learning wasn't the best idea," Sirius said, sounding worried.

"No," I persisted, "I'll be fine."

Remus raised an eyebrow, but he didn't question it any further. "That Patronus was incredible," he said, his eyes bright, "Producing a fully formed Patronus within a day is practically unheard of. You're doing an excellent job." He was beaming, clearly proud not only of me, but also of his teaching.

A racket of noise carried up from downstairs, Mrs. Weasley's voice echoing in the entryway. "Finally, boys! I've been worried sick!"

I grinned to myself, knowing that she was speaking to Fred, George, and Ron. "Mum," George's voice whined, "We've only been to Diagon Alley!"

Since the boys had recently passed that Apparition exams, they had taken to traveling for short day trips around the country, mostly to Diagon Alley, the Burrow, and occasionally to Hogsmeade to visit Zonko's, much to their mum's dismay. "I don't care! It's dangerous out there," She huffed.

Remus and Sirius were both smiling. "Reminds me of Mrs. Potter," Sirius chuckled. Remus nodded his agreement.

"Dinner!" Mrs. Weasley shouted up the stairs.

Remus extended a hand to me, "let's go get you something to eat, and then you can rest up a bit." I grabbed it and he helped me up.

On the way down the stairs, we passed by Fred and George, who were stashing away their purchases in their bedroom, probably to hide them from Molly. "Ollie!" Fred chimed, quickly snapping the bedroom door shut.

"Have fun out today?" I asked halfheartedly, secretly jealous that they were allowed to leave the house.

They were both grinning. "Loads!" George said ecstatically. But Fred elbowed him in the side, not wanting me to feel too left out.

"It's okay," I shrugged, "We had fun too." I looked to Remus and Sirius, who both nodded.

"Loads!" Remus laughed.

"Olivia cast her first Patronus!" Sirius said excitedly.

Fred's eyes grew big, "Really?"

I nodded proudly, feeling more confident in accepting praise. "

"What is it?" George asked curiously.

"It's a falcon!" Remus quipped for me.

Fred's smile grew even bigger, "Mum! Ollie's Patronus is a falcon!" He exclaimed as we walked into the dining room.

Her stern face changed to a bright smile, "Oh congratulations, sweetheart!" Arthur and Tonks, who were also sat around the table, gave a few congratulatory claps.

I could feel my face growing red, not expecting such compliments. "Thank you," I smiled, sitting down with the twins at my side. We all tucked in to the Scouse stew and cheese toasties that Molly had prepared. At one end of the table, the adults whispered in low voices, possibly either about my training or about Voldemort. Meanwhile, Ginny, Ron, the twins, and myself talked about what the boys had seen and done is Diagon Alley. When our bowls were emptied and our stomachs had been filled, Fred stood up.

"We got a little surprise for you today," He said with a sly smile.

I raised my eyebrows, "Did you now?"

"Go get it!" Ron grinned excitedly.

My heart started beating quicker as Fred disappeared out of the room. I was originally expecting something small, possibly a book from Flourish & Botts, but by the looks on everyone's faces, it didn't seem so.

Moments later, Fred's head poked out into the doorway. "Now, we can't take all the credit for this. It was Sirius's idea, we simply pulled it off," He said, the suspension rising, "We know that you've been a bit lonely this summer, so hopefully this will help."

He stepped into the room, something small and black cradled in his arms. It took me a moment to realize that he was holding fluffy little kitten. I gasped. "Guys!"

They were all smiling. "His name is Nox," George added as Fred handed him to me. I grabbed his tiny body and he curled against my chest.

I turned and looked at Sirius, who was smiling bigger than I had ever seen him smile before. "Sirius," I breathed, suddenly holding back tears of happiness, "thank you."

He shrugged, "It's nothing. You've been working hard. You deserve it."

"Do you like him?" Fred asked, desperately.

I smiled, "I love him." I planted a soft kiss on the top of him head and he turned to look up at me. He had big blue eyes that instantly melted my heart. "You guys are the best."

The next few weeks seemed to crawl by. Having little Nox around definitely made me a little less lonely and gave me something to do other than studying and pulling Doxies out of the curtains, though I was beginning to get a worried about Draco. I still hadn't gotten a response to the last letter that I sent, and naturally, I assumed the worst. With every passing day, I was more unsettled by the idea of him being in trouble, and there was nothing that I could do to help him. I spent a great deal of time sitting in my bedroom, hoping that his owl would come swooping down through the fireplace, but alas, it never came. Harry and Hermione both joined us at the house, taking refuge from the turmoil that was happening out in the real world. From what I had gathered from them, there was article after article in the _Daily Prophet_ about Harry and about Hogwarts. Apparently there had even be a couple about me, speculating my involvement with the events at the Triwizard Tournament and my allegiances. That was exactly what I needed: more people talking about me.

Although, I was okay with the dragging weeks because there was a lesson ahead that I was dreading. But no matter how much I wished that it wouldn't come, it did.

"Legilimency," Professor Snape said as he paced the length of the landing, "the power to penetrate the many layers of the mind. I will be teaching you both how to master such a skill and to resist against it." I glanced towards Sirius and Remus, who stood at the edge of the room, watching. They both nodded. They were well aware of the fact that I didn't want to do this, but it was necessary.

He turned sharply towards me, "I will start by demonstrating its effects." I watched silently as he reached for his wand inside of his robes, intimidated by the intimacy of the lesson. I, unlike many other Gryffindors, had a rather neutral relationship with Snape. Of course he would always favor students from his own house and his teaching style was rather harsh and strict, but this pushed me to learn more and try harder. He seemed to be a believer in the idea of tough love. It seemed to work alright. Though he wasn't particularly one for praising students, he would address the fact that I did well in his class and had a knack for potion-making. I wasn't quite sure why he was impartial towards me, but I wasn't complaining.

"Do not try to fight it," he instructed, lifting his wand arm. With a sharp flourish, I felt my mind growing hazy.

Suddenly, I was eleven years old again. I was no longer in the dusty house on Grimmauld Place. Instead, I was inside of Ollivander's Wand Shop, my wand delicately balanced in my hand.

"Great power lies within that wand," Ollivander told me. I could feel the fear bubbling inside of me.

Bright white light flashed before my eyes, and then I was sat at the dinner table in the Burrow. Fred and George were laughing beside me, and everyone was happy.

Another flash of light. I was sat on the Hogwarts Express, surrounded by all of my friends.

Another flash and I was high above the Quidditch pitch, the stands around me erupting into cheers. We had just won my first match, thanks to Harry almost swallowing the snitch.

Another flash. This time, I saw Draco's face. He was leaning in to me, his eyes on my lips and his hand was on my cheek. I closed my eyes as our lips touched. When I opened them again, I was in the dark corridor of Hogwarts. Draco was still with me, but his eyes were now glistening with the hint of tears. "What am I going to do without you all summer?" He whispered.

My heart was racing and I was suddenly very aware that Snape was seeing all of this as well. I had to stop him.

I tried to force my mind to settle in an attempt to block him out. I focused on the backs of my eyelids, on the blank nothingness in front of me.

Light flooded my vision again.

I saw sitting on the sofa on the landing again, Snape standing over me with his wand hung in the air. "You're resisting," He said coldly.

"That's private," I said defensively.

Remus stepped forward, "What do you mean she's resisting? She doesn't know how."

Snape lowered his wand. "Well, she just did."

Everyone's eyes were on me. "I'm sorry," I muttered, "I won't do it again."

"Sorry?" Sirius said, stepping in, "What are you sorry for? That was incredible!"

Snape glared at Sirius, clearly unhappy that he was here during the lesson. "You're disrupting my lesson," He growled.

Remus waved his hand dismissively at Sirius, "Try it again. Try to fight it immediately this time. Okay Olivia?"

I nodded as Snape raised his wand once again. The same foggy sensation washed over me, this time pulling me into a scene that wasn't as familiar. I was sat on the floor in a large and exorbitant living room, a small blonde boy sat across from me, probably no more than a couple years old. I could sense a air of innocence. This memory, though I didn't remember it, must have been from when I was much younger. I could see a pair of women sat on a large sofa behind the little boy, both looking vaguely familiar. However, I didn't have time to think about where I had seen them before. Remus's words, "fight it immediately," echoed in my brain, so I did exactly that. I tried to shut my brain off,

Real life faded back into my sight. Snape was still in front of me, lowering his wand looking perplexed. "How?" He asked.

I shook my head, confused. "I just stopped thinking, stopped feeling."

Their eyes didn't move off of me. "Voldemort is one of the most skilled Legilimens in history. Do you reckon it's anything to do with that?" Remus asked, his gaze moving towards Snape.

"Legilimency and Occlumency aren't inherited, Lupin," He denied, "Certainly she has done this before."

"No," I insisted, "I haven't."

Snape looked dumbfounded, "You have sufficiently wasted enough of my time for one day, Riddle. We have a meeting to get to, so if you don't mind, we will be going now," He hissed. Him, Sirius, and Remus began to make their way down the stairs, but I couldn't hold myself back. If anyone knew anything about Draco, it would be him, and now he knew about our little affair.

"Professor," I called after him.

He stopped dead, just a few steps down. "Riddle?"

"Professor," I said, suddenly stumbling for my words, "Is Draco Malfoy alright? I wrote him weeks ago, and he hasn't responded."

He looked me up and down, as if judging whether or not to tell me the truth. "Malfoy is just fine," He said flatly.

It was the answer that I had been hoping for, but a strange sadness stirred in me. Of course I didn't want him to be in trouble, but I kind of wished for an explanation as to why he hadn't written me back. Now, I was left even more confused than before. I nodded distantly, "Thank you, Professor." I turned and retreated back to my bedroom.

Nox was curled at the foot of my bed, fast asleep. I smiled slightly at the sight of him, though it wasn't nearly enough to remedy my frustration. I threw myself onto the mattress dejectedly, halfway wishing that I hadn't asked at all. I would much rather still be worrying than feeling so crushed.

As I sat on there, stirring in my desolation, my mind wandered to the things I had seen while under Snape's spell. The last 'memory' played over and over inside my mind, particularly the faces of the women sitting on the couch. One of them was entirely foreign to me, though the other, the one with bright blonde hair and blue eyes, looked strangely familiar. I contemplated it for a long time, trying to place where I had seen her face before. And then it dawned on me. I had seen that face just earlier this summer, on Platform 9 3/4. It was the face of Narcissa Malfoy. The little boy was Draco, and the house was Malfoy Manor.

Draco's voice echoed in my mind. "They Obliviated you," he had said that night by the lake.

Instantly, I shot to my feet, anger coursing through my body. In a fit of fury, I threw the bedroom door open and stormed down the stairs. Nox scurried out after me.

"Was I Obliviated when my parents were arrested?" I demanded loudly as I strode into the dining room, interrupting the Order meeting. Every pair of eyes flashed my direction. "And don't lie to me. I'm tired of being lied to."

They all started to glance around at each other. "Olivia, dear," Molly said softly.

But I didn't want to hear her comfort or any excuses. "Tell me," I ordered again, "Was I Obliviated?"

There was a long silence. "I knew it!" I shouted, unable to contain my rage. My face was growing hot, sweat prickling the small of my back.

"It was at Dumbledore's orders," Remus said finally, attempting to remain calm, "You had seen things that no child should have to see. Your parents are some of the most evil people out there, they had already begun to place their influence on you. It was the safest option for you."

That response didn't make me feel any better. "I was four years old! Who Obliviates a four year old?"

But I didn't want to stand by and listen to their excuses any longer. Rather than waiting for a response, I spun on my heels and ran back upstairs into my room. "Olivia," Sirius called after me.

"Sirius," Molly's voice followed.

But it was too late. He was already headed up after me.

"Olivia," He repeated when he walked into my room.

I turned to look at him. "What?"

He blinked, startled by my abruptness. "Don't be upset."

My heart clenched at the idea of him telling me how to feel. "What reason do I have not to be upset? I haven't been outside in over a month. I've spent the whole summer locked up here practicing spells. With everything that I do, you all stare at me like I'm some magical freak. And now I found out that I've been lied to about my entire childhood." _And the boy that I fancy is deliberately ignoring me_ , I thought to myself. "How could I not be upset?"

He was silent for a moment before answering. "Olivia, I'm sorry. I am so sorry that you have been put through this, but with the current circumstances-"

"I don't give a damn about the circumstances. I want my life back. Now, would you mind leaving me alone?"

The expression on his face changed as he deflated in defeat. "As you wish," he whispered as he turned away. He didn't close the door behind him.

I was finally alone. Completely alone. Nox was off wrestling with Crookshanks somewhere downstairs, and everyone in the house was no doubt talking about the breakdown I had just had. The only eyes on me now were those in the moving photos on the walls and the mantlepiece. I reached out and grabbed the Quidditch team photo.

My father was smiling. He was happy. And for once, he didn't look like the evil man that everyone made him out to be.

"Ollie," I heard behind me. I turned to see Fred standing in the doorway, a worried look covering his face. I quickly placed the photo back on the mantle, face down this time. "Are you okay?"

His face was the only one that I needed to see right now. For once, I was grateful that George hadn't followed at his heels. It was just us. I didn't say a word, but I stepped closer to him and allowed his arms to surround me in a hug. "I'm okay now," I whispered.

He didn't say anything more, simply holding me until I pulled away. When I did, I looked up and met his eyes. I needed something more, something I hadn't had since term ended. I needed the touch of someone else, and I didn't care who it was. Our eye contact hung for a moment as I tried to fight an urge that suddenly tugged at my heart. But I couldn't fight it anymore. I had to bury all of this anger, all of this misery.

I leaned forward and allowed my lips to crash against his without a second thought. To my surprise, he didn't recoil and push me away. Instead, he wrapped an arm around my waist and placed his hand on my cheek, as if he were trying to pull me closer even though our bodies were already completely melted together. He kissed me back, gentle at first and then with more fervor.

After several moments, he pulled back for a breath. "I thought you would never do that," he said breathlessly.

"Don't speak," I whispered, silencing him with another kiss. He accepted it thankfully, using his foot to kick the door closed. In one swift movement, his hands reached down and picked me up, tossing me onto the bed.

 **This chapter took a while, but I wanted to make sure that I picked the perfect patronus for Olivia. Here's a little snippet about the falcon patronus from MuggleNet that I thought fit quite well:**

 **"** **Falcons have a keen eye and are among the fastest creatures on earth. If your Patronus is a falcon, you may have been a troubled soul who decided to cast away their old, evil habits to fly down the hard, right path. Your nature pulls you to the dark, but you've chosen to live for the light … The falcon also represents breaking free from slavery. Now that you are free, you are flying in the light, and no one can stop you, not even Dementors!"**

 **I hope you enjoyed it! Do you like the patronus? What does this mean for Olivia and Draco? Olivia and Fred?**


	10. ten

"Kids!" I heard echo from down the stairs. "Dinner is on the table!"

I looked up, slightly annoyed with the timing. "Coming, Mrs. Weasley!" I replied.

"Get Fred down here, would you?" She asked.

Stifling a laugh, I hollered back. "Yes, Ma'am!" I glanced down at the boy who lay beneath my straddled legs. "Dinner is ready," I smiled, relaying the message.

He rolled his eyes, running his hands along my thighs. "I would much rather stay here with you," he whispered, biting his lip. He knew that I couldn't resist when he did that. But in the month or so that we had been sneaking around, I was smarter than to fall for it.

"Maybe you can have me for dessert instead," I said cheekily, "if you're lucky."

I stood up, climbing off of the bed. "You know that I don't like to wait. I'm very impatient," he pleaded. Instead, I tossed his t-shirt back to him from where it had been discarded on the bedroom floor.

"Patience is a virtue," I reminded him.

He sat up, his ginger hair sticking up in every direction. "Don't you dare talk to me about virtues. I wouldn't quite call you pure." He pulled his shirt on and stood up.

I stepped closer to him and ran my hands through his hair, trying to smooth it down. But he was unable to resist my closeness. He grabbed my chin and kissed me deeply. I allowed my tongue to tease at his lips, making him eager for more. Just as one of his hands crept onto the small of my back, I pulled away. "You say that like it's a bad thing," I breathed. He gaped at me, upset that I would leave him hanging. "Come on," I said as I made my way towards the door, "It's time for dinner."

He followed me reluctantly, his head hung low in disappointment.

Despite our teasing and distractions, we were still some of the first ones to make it to the dinner table which was covered in a wide selection of food from turkey and leek pie, peas, and mash, all prepared by Molly with the help of Ginny, Emmeline and Tonks. Slowly, the room began to fill with people eager for a warm meal. Fred pulled out a chair and gestured for me to sit down. I accepted, sitting down beside Hermione. George, who was sat diagonally from me and across from Fred, gave me a suspicious glance. Unsurprisingly, he had managed to figure out our little secret rather quickly when Fred never came into bed several nights in a row. Thankfully, he had kept quiet, not even telling Ron. However, I assumed that everyone else was beginning to catch on.

I grabbed his hand under the table, squeezing it tightly.

"Everything is all set for the trip back to Hogwarts tomorrow morning," Molly said as she placed a plate of yorkshire puddings on the table. "All of your trunks are packed?"

We all nodded, busying ourselves in our meals. I had always been excited for the start of term, but this year, I absolutely couldn't wait. I was so ready to get out of this house.

"Are you three ready for your O.W.L. year?" Arthur asked Harry, Ron and Hermione.

Hermione nodded confidently, "I've already started studying."

Harry and Ron groaned. "Don't remind us," Harry sighed annoyedly.

I laughed, "They aren't _that_ bad."

"Says the girl who got seven Outstandings, and two Exceeds Expectations," Fred huffed next to me. I rolled my eyes, but didn't say anything.

The conversation was plentiful tonight. The usual pre-Hogwarts thrill buzzed through the room, though there was a slight hesitance among all of us. After the return of Voldemort, there was an increasing uncertainty about what this year would have in store. No one knew what to expect, but we didn't dare talk about it.

Fred and George talked with each other about their recent experiments and I watched them silently. I wasn't quite sure what to make of their inventions. Of course I was proud of what they had accomplished, but I also wasn't sure where their endeavors would take them. Sometimes, their experiments got a bit dangerous. I really didn't want to see either of them get hurt, or god-forbid, someone else. It was clear that they were very smart. They certainly didn't get enough credit for their intelligence. They had made some impressive advancements, but their parents both saw it as wasting time that they should be spending on their studies, especially with the current political climate. The boys wouldn't admit it, but I knew that the judgement passed by their parents did bother them. Often, they would joke about the disappointment, but there was truth behind the humor. Molly and Arthur were fantastic people, don't get me wrong. I loved them like they were my own parents. They wanted the best for their kids, and they saw the undeniable potential in them. They didn't intend to hurt them, but the comments about the fact that they were the only ones in the family who weren't prefects (with the exception of Ginny, or course) weren't exactly encouraging.

"What do think of that, Olivia? A telescope that punches you in the eye if you try to use it?" George asked, a huge grin covering his face.

I smiled back, glancing at Fred, "Sound dangerous."

"That's the point!" They both chimed.

George was staring at me, leaving across the table. "Liv, is that a hickey?" He asked in a low whisper.

My hand shot up to my neck, embarrassed.

Fred's eyes widened. "George! Not here!" He hissed.

His brother shook his head, "It's not my fault. You're the one who needs to be more careful about marking your girlfriend."

Fred sighed, giving me a sideways glance. He didn't particularly care if anyone found out about us, but he knew that I wanted to keep it a secret, at least until we got to Hogwarts. "You don't have to talk about it."

"Someone is going to notice," George sang, with little concern about upsetting his twin. I leaned my elbow on the table and rested my chin on my hand, attempting to use my forearm to cover the bruise.

Molly stood up, "Dessert, anyone?"

I had to suppress a smile as I remembered what I had promised Fred, _maybe you can have me for dessert_. He seemed to remember too, winking subtly in my direction. "I would love some," I said, covering up our teasing.

She pulled out her wand and waved it sharply. A large trifle appeared in the middle of the table, along with new, clean plates in front of everyone.

We tucked in, and before long, the trifle dish was empty and our stomachs were incredibly full. "Delicious meal, Molly," Sirius said, leaning back in his chair.

"Thank you, Sirius," Molly smiled.

Next to me, Fred yawned sleepily and stretched his arms above his head. His hand fell onto my leg, squeezing my thigh gently. "I'm about ready for bed," he sighed.

I nodded in agreement, "Me too." Slowly, I pushed my chair out and stood up. He followed in suit. "Goodnight," I said with a smile before disappearing up the stairs, Fred not far behind me.

"Wait up," He called after he in a hushed tone. I stopped on the landing, turning to look at him. Almost instantly, his mouth was against mine. The kiss didn't last long. He pulled back, "I'm ready for second dessert."

I giggled, pulling him back into me without another word. He pressed me back and into my room eagerly. He really wasn't very patient.

* * *

I lay with my head against Fred's bare chest, his quiet snores ringing in my ear. He had been asleep for over an hour, but I remained wide awake, guilt consuming me.

I would be seeing Draco again tomorrow morning. As much as I enjoyed being with Fred, the thought of Draco Malfoy was always swimming in the back of my mind. When I allowed the thought to surface, remorse overcame me. I never should have gotten involved with Fred. I had done it in a fit of anger and pining, and somehow it had turned into sneaking around Grimmauld Place, late night hook ups and holding hands.

I glanced up at the boy who slept with his arms entangled with me. Of course he made me happy. I loved being around him and being with him. He was safe, and he was comfortable, and he was familiar. I could be with him without worry that he would soon be running off to join the Death Eaters. Perhaps safety was what I needed right now. But something deep inside of me longed for the recklessness of Draco Malfoy. Draco was mysterious and mesmerizing. He wasn't what I needed, but he was everything that I wanted. And I was what he needed. At least, that was what I thought until he seemingly forgot about me.

I remembered what Fred had said to me the first time that we kissed, _I though you would never do that_. After all of those years that I had spent wishing he would like me back, he had been waiting on me. He was so obviously head-over-heels in love with me. I couldn't turn my back on him now. That would absolutely crush him. I mean, what would I tell him anyway? I couldn't just say that I was hopelessly in love with Draco Malfoy. Something felt so wrong about leaving him for a relationship with so much uncertainty. I was so lucky to have someone like Fred. Why was so caught up in the idea of something more?

I pulled myself closer into him, taking a deep breath.

DRACO:

I pressed my way through King's Cross Station eagerly, my parents a few paces behind me. I had never been so anxious to get to Hogwarts in my life. Today, I was going to get to see Olivia. I could see the entrance to the platform not far ahead of me. She was so close that I could almost taste her.

But a thought tugged at my mind, a thought that had been bothering me for weeks. She was going to be mad that I never wrote her. I tried to push it out of my mind just as I always had, but the thought of Olivia being upset with me made me angry with myself. I shouldn't have listened to my father's orders. I hadn't been before. For some reason, it bothered me more this time. And that wasn't just because of the curse.

I picked up my pace again, jogging through the barrier onto Platform 9 3/4. Hogwarts students were buzzing around everywhere, making it difficult to make my way through the crowd. My eyes scanned everywhere in search of her head of dark hair, but I couldn't see through the hordes of people. Either way, I couldn't talk to her now. My father would hit me with a curse right here on the platform.

I turned to look at my parents, who strode up behind me. "Remember what I said, son," My father muttered so nobody else could hear. He had recently been keeping me informed of the fact that there were some big changes coming at Hogwarts, and he wanted me to be at the center of them. "Don't go wasting your time with silly Gryffindor girls."

I heart clenched. He was going to be keeping an even closer eye on me this year, which would make sneaking around even more difficult than before. But that wasn't going to stop me.

My mother pulled me into a delicate hug. I put one arm around her, the other occupied holding my trunk.

"Make me proud, son," My father said as my mum planted a soft kiss on my cheek. He said that every single year, and every year I did not fail to disappoint him.

"We'll see you at Christmas," Mum smiled.

I gathered the rest of my belongings and boarded the train, making my way to the Prefects' carriage. Pansy was already there, sitting at a table close by. I sat down across from her.

Immediately, she started to complain, "I don't like sitting all the way up here," she sneered. Usually, we sat in the very last carriage, but the Prefects' one was near the front of the train.

"Good to see you, too," I mumbled.

She looked at me deadpan, "You're really going to be like that already?"

I shrugged, "I don't know what you're talking about." I looked out the window and immediately spotted several heads of vibrant red hair. The Weasley family. And in the middle of them all was Olivia. As I watched, I realized that something wasn't quite right. While the other siblings hugged their parents goodbye, she stood in conversation with Fred and George. I blinked hard to make sure I was seeing it right, but sure enough, she was holding Fred's hand. Was this normal? I mean, he was her best friend. It could be like how Pansy always clung onto my arm when she sat next to me. But she had always done that. I had never seen Olivia holding his hand before now.

The way he was looking at her made my stomach tighten. That look definitely wasn't anything new, though. I had seen that look on his face plenty of times. The thing that bothered me about it now was the fact that she seemed to be returning it.

"You're still on her?" Pansy asked shrilly.

I shook my head, "She's pretty. But that's all."

Pansy rolled her eyes, "But she isn't even that pretty. Average at best."

I had to bite my tongue from saying anything more. "She is a descendent of one of the most powerful dark wizards of all time. She could be useful." Of course, that wasn't how I truly felt, but I had to give some explanation for my infatuation.

"She would never join though. She's a goody two-shoes."

The Weasleys were now boarding the train. Olivia, Ron, and Hermione turned and walked into the Prefects' car. For a split second, I met eyes with her, but I immediately looked away and focused my eyes on my hands.

Before long, the train was pulling out of the station. The anticipation that I had been feeling about going back to Hogwarts had suddenly disappeared. The head boy and girl paced the length of the car explaining our duties as Prefects, but I was hardly listening. I was too busy watching Olivia. She was sat a few tables away with a small black kitten sat in her lap. She stoked it softly as she stared out the window, having already heard the Prefect speech last year.. I knew that we had only kissed a few times and she was never officially my girlfriend, but seeing her with someone else hurt more than I could have imagined.

The meeting lasted just over an hour, after which we were free to rejoin our friends. She was one of the first to leave. Pansy also left fairly quickly, eager to find Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle. "I'll meet you back there in a few minutes," I told her, needing a little bit of time to myself.

As the train sped through the English countryside, my mind sped faster. Of course I was aware that Olivia might be upset that I never wrote her, but I never imagined that she would show up with a whole new boyfriend. In my whole life, I had never really felt rejection. It probably sounds entitled of me to say that, but it was the truth. Everyone knew who I was, and I always found a way to get what I wanted. Call me spoiled if you want, but I preferred the term cunning.

Eventually, I pulled myself together enough to go find the others. I stood and began to walk towards the back of the train. I walked with my eyes down, trying to avoid contact with anyone else. I did look up, however, as I approached Olivia's usual compartment. Sure enough, there she was. I stopped for a moment, watching her again. She was laughing, her legs draped across Fred's lap. He was smiling at her. A smile like that shouldn't have crushed me so much, but I could feel my heart sinking into my stomach. This is what she deserved. She deserved laughter and happiness. But I hoped that I would be the one to give it to her.

Fred's head sunk down to her level and he kissed her lightly on the lips, confirming my worst suspicions. Her hand grazed the side of his face for a moment, making me feel sick to my stomach. I couldn't watch this any longer. But just as started to drop my gaze, hers rose, meeting mine. She knew that I had been spying on her.

Now I really felt sick. Immediately, I started back down the corridor. My hands were shaking. I had to pull myself together. My face and eyes were hot with the flood of emotions that I was suddenly drowning in. I could barely see where I was going, all that I knew was that I had to get away from her.

When I threw myself down in the seat next to Pansy, she gave me a strange look. "Draco, are you okay?"

"Fine," I growled, putting my head into my hands and rubbing my palms into my eyes.

"You look like ill."

I felt ill.

"He looks like Potter when he sees a dementor," Blaise laughed.

I looked up and forced a smile, trying to act normal. "No, I'm still conscious," I forced myself to say.

The rest of the group howled in laughter. Somehow, amidst the hysteria, I felt so incredibly numb, and not the kind of numb that I was used to. I had gotten so used to not feeling anything at all, pushing any kind of emotion out of my mind. But now that I knew just how good I could feel, how much emotion I could feel, the nothingness felt paralyzing.


	11. eleven

OLIVIA:

Hogwarts was miserable. Tensions in the castle were higher than ever before, especially in the Gryffindor Tower, centering entirely around the events at the end of last term. Harry was constantly finding himself at the center of many an argument, though he was never one to start it. I was also frequently questioned, but I knew even less about the situation than Harry did.

To make matters worse, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, commissioned by the Ministry of Magic itself, was absolutely vile. I had only attended a single class of hers, but I immediately knew that she was bad news. It wasn't quite clear what level of influence that the Ministry would be having at Hogwarts, but there was no such thing as positive Ministry interference. Her physical appearance didn't help her out much either. According to Harry, she looked quite like a large pale toad, which was was a rather apt description of the woman, though Neville's toad Trevor would probably make a better teacher.

"I never thought I could feel so threatened by a nasty old woman," I complained to Fred and George one night in the common room as I poured over my DADA homework. Somehow, she thought it would be acceptable to teach a N.E.W.T. level defense class simply off of theory.

Fred shrugged, "I wouldn't worry about her. As long as Dumbledore is here, he won't let anything happen to you."

I nodded slightly. He was right, but I wasn't necessarily worried for my own safety. I was worried about Hogwarts.

George was shaking his head, "I don't reckon she has much regard for what Dumbledore has to say." Unfortunately, that was probably true.

"But you don't even need her class anymore, do you?" Fred asked, "After all that training that you did this summer, you know more than you would ever learn at Hogwarts. You could probably teach the class better than she can. It is optional after your O.W.L.s, you know."

"Not if I want to get a job at the Ministry," I sighed, "I already know the material, but if I don't get a N.E.W.T., they'll never hire me."

Both brothers waved a dismissive hand. I knew that neither of them particularly cared about their marks, especially now that they were developing their business, but I was cursed with a bad case of perfectionism. "You don't need a N.E.W.T.," George scoffed, "You'd be better off if you didn't waste your time on her and focused on something like potions. You're plenty good at that."

I hadn't thought of it that way. "Talk to McGonagall. She would understand. She hates the woman," Fred suggested. That was a good idea.

I stood up. "Yeah," I said decisively, "I think I will."

"Now?" Fred said, looking slightly disappointed. I did feel bad for leaving him, as we hadn't had very much time together all week, but I had to talk to McGonagall now before I had second thoughts.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, "I won't be gone long." Out of the corner of my eye, I could see George averting his gaze so he wouldn't disturb us.

Fred glanced down at his Herbology book. "Yeah," he muttered.

"Gorgeous," I pleaded, "I promise I'll be quick." When he didn't respond, I gently kissed the top of his head and left for McGonagall's office.

"Who is it?" She called when I knocked on the door of the office.

I took a deep breath. I couldn't back down now, "Professor, it's Olivia. May I speak with you for a moment?"

"Yes! Come right in!" She replied. I pushed open the door to see her sitting at her desk, a stack of student's assignments in front of her. "Have a seat, dear." I obeyed. "And have a biscuit. What can I do for you?"

I didn't grab a biscuit. "Professor, I was wondering if I could drop Defense Against the Dark Arts."

She put down her cup of tea and looked at me over the tops of her glasses. "And why would you want to do that?"

"It's Professor Umbridge, ma'am. She only wants to teach us theory!"

"But Ms. Vance, you've done very well in the class in years previous. You received an Outstanding on your O.W.L. exam. You're future in the subject is very bright."

"I am aware," I said passively, "But the class is currently a waste of my time. I would much rather be focusing my academic efforts on something useful, like potions."

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her desk. "Perhaps that is a wise decision." She looked me up and down, contemplating. "I do understand your contempt with Dolores, and I am aware that you have done some defense training throughout the summer. You seem to know the material well enough, according to Severus." I stiffened at the mention of Professor Snape, remembering my Occlumancy lesson with him. "I suppose dropping the course would be the favorable option."

I relaxed into the chair, "Thank you, Professor."

"And Ms Vance," She sighed, "I would greatly appreciate it if you would keep those Weasley boys in line. You appear to have gotten even closer to one in particular."

I swallowed hard. Even McGonagall knew about Fred and I. "Yes, ma'am," I agreed, "I'll try my best. Though they aren't very easy to contain."

She gave a small laugh, "Believe me, I've noticed."

"Professor," I said again, "I would also like to start going by my legal name."

Her jovial expression from moments before was replaced with one of shock. "Pardon?"

"Someone told me that I shouldn't run from my past. It's an important part of who I am. I don't want to hide anymore."

McGonagall was smiling. "I'm proud of you, Ms. Riddle. Now, go study. I assume you have plenty to do."

I stood up, "I appreciate your time, Professor."

"Anytime."

And with that, I left the study.

When I stepped into the hallway, I could hear a pair of voices around the corner, likely leaving the Great Hall. I immediately recognized one as Draco. My heartbeat skyrocketed. I hadn't spoken to him since the school year started and, quite frankly, had been avoiding him.

"My mother is insisting that I wait until I turn sixteen," I heard him saying.

A second voice responded, "She doesn't want you to do it?" It was Pansy Parkinson.

"She thinks that I am going to regret it," Draco said.

Pansy's shrill voice followed, "And your father is going along with what she wants?"

I peered around the corner to get a good look at them. They were walking towards me, speaking in hushed voices in the silence of the corridor. Just as I poked my head around, I watched as Draco reached a hand up and grabbed Pansy's waist. Abruptly, he pushed her up against the stone wall, his mouth against hers.

I stood completely still, dumbfounded and confused. Surely they hadn't been seeing each other, right?

I could see Draco's face in my mind as he stared through the glass door of the train compartment. In that moment, he almost looked sad. But now he had some other girl pressed against the wall, kissing her.

No, I wasn't jealous. I couldn't be jealous. I had Fred. But something about Draco's kiss was so different from Fred's. Maybe it was the recklessness, or perhaps the idea that it was forbidden in some way. As I stood there, watching him run his hands along a different girl, I wanted it. I wanted to be her. I wanted his kiss on my lips and his hands on my hips.

Right as those thought started to bubble up, I turned away. I couldn't think like that. I had Fred.

I made a beeline for the Gryffindor Tower.

"So?" Fred asked as I walked back into the common room. He was still pouting, barely raising his eyes to look at me.

I took a deep breath. "I'm no longer in the class," I sighed, sitting down next to him.

"That's great!" George smiled, looking up at me from his seat on the floor.

I nodded. I wasn't intentionally trying to ignore him, but as I sat here, leaned up against Fred, guilt was consuming me once again. Not only had I abandoned our small amount of time together, but I had watched as Draco Malfoy kissed another girl and felt _envious_ of her.

DRACO:

Okay, I have a confession to make: I knew that Olivia was standing there just around the corner. That was the only reason that I dared to kiss Pansy.

After seeing Olivia kissing Fred Weasley, knowing the hurt that it had made me feel, I wanted her to feel the same way. I wanted her to feel the pain that she had inflicted on me. I didn't want to kiss Pansy in the slightest, but it was something that I had to do. I knew that the fact that it was Pansy would make Olivia even more mad because the two absolutely despised each other.

In the moment, it had seemed like a good idea, but as I lay in bed that night, I didn't feel any better. In fact, it made me feel even worse. Olivia did not deserve to hurt the way that I did. It was my fault that she had gotten with Fred in the first place. I hadn't written her back for over a month after she had shown me nothing but kindness. This whole thing was my fault. Every bit of it. She didn't deserve to have to put up with someone like me, an unpredictable mess that would only cause her trouble. She deserved someone like Fred. She deserved someone who could love her unconditionally the way that he did, someone that wouldn't abandon her in a time of need, someone who could make her laugh and hold her without fear. I was none of those things.

The moonlight seeped through the cracks in the dark curtains, illuminating the dormitory just enough for me to see the room in front of me. All of the other boys appeared to be asleep as I lay awake, contemplating everything. I deserved someone like Pansy. I deserved someone equally as judgmental and offensive as myself. I couldn't stand her, but she was a girl that my parents would undoubtedly approve of. She was a pureblood and a Slytherin. Her family, like mine, was fairly well known and respected in our society. Granted, not as well as the Malfoy family, but no other family was held in that high of a regard.

No, I didn't feel the same intense desire for her like I did for Olivia, but if I truly was going to be forced down this dark and sinful path, she seemed like the obvious choice.

I did not love her. I could not love her. But as I had learned over the last few years, I was pretty good at faking it.

I rolled over in my bed, hoping to get some sleep. But sleep would not come. In all honest, I hadn't had a decent night's sleep in several weeks, with something new always keeping me awake, whether it be Olivia, my future, or simply a book that I could not put down. I was pretty okay with it though. I knew that if I did fall asleep, I would have the same dreams that I had been having since the end of last term. When I thought about them, I could still feel the burning of the mark on my arm. I had that mark imprinted on the backs of my eyelids. Sometimes I would even had dreams of hurting or torturing Olivia. I hadn't had one of those in a long time, but they still haunted me. I could still see her face as she squirmed at the mercy of my wand.

That was probably what I feared most: being forced to hurt her in some way. The only way I could prevent this was by distancing myself. She was happy. She was allowed to be happy. As much as it hurt to see her with someone else, I knew that it was probably for the best. It was for her own good.


	12. twelve

**Hi again! I am so sorry that this chapter took a bit longer, as I had a bit of writer's block, but here it is! As compensation, I've made it a bit longer than usual.**

* * *

OLIVIA:

"Morning, Harry!" I chimed as I sat down at the busy table in the Hog's Head, butterbeer in hand.

He raised his eyes to look at me, a hint of a struggled smile on his face. "Morning, Olivia," He muttered lowly as people began to crowd around. The filthy old pub had never been so busy, and this was all for Harry. A strange excitement was brewing inside of me, knowing that we weren't supposed to be here. I had never been one to break the rules, usually leaving that to the Weasley boys, but I was very okay with disobeying our "High Inquisitor". In the matter of a few short weeks, my disdain for her only intensified. Even though I was no longer in her class, I wasn't particularly fond of her watching me like a hawk during potions.

Hermione cleared her throat and looked around at the people around the table nervously, "Well, erm… Harry here had the idea… I mean, I had the idea that it would be good if people who wanted to study Defense Against the Dark Arts — and I mean really study it, you know, not that rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us because nobody can call that Defense Against the Dark Arts," She started.

A few seats down, Ravenclaw Anthony Goldstein raised his mug of butterbeer. "Hear, hear," he chimed. Several of us joined him, also raising our glasses.

Hermione smiled a little, relaxing, "Well, I thought it would be good if we took matters into our own hands. And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly. Not just theory, but the real spells."

Michael Corner, another Ravenclaw, interrupted her, "You want to pass you Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. though too, I bet."

"Of course I do," said Hermione at once. "But I want more than that, I want to be properly trained in Defense because . . . because . . ." She took a deep breath and finished, "Because Lord Voldemort's back."

Immediately, everyone recoiled at the sound of the name. I couldn't hide a slight smile, proud of Hermione for no longer fearing it. She glanced around at us anxiously, looking from Harry to Ron, and then at the twins and I. I gave her a nod, encouraging her to continue. Making a big deal out of saying his name would only give it more power. "Well . . . that's the plan anyway," she persisted amongst the gasps. "If you want to join us, we need to decide how we're going to —"

"Where's the proof You-Know-Who's back?" said a blond Hufflepuff boy in a rather aggressive voice. I struggled to remember his name, but I recognized him from the Quidditch pitch. He was a chaser as well, but not a very good one, because if that were the case, I would know his name.

"Well, Dumbledore believes it —" Hermione said defensively.

"You mean, Dumbledore believes him," he said, giving a pointed glance towards Harry.

"Who are you?" said Ron rather rudely.

"Zacharias Smith," said the boy proudly, "and I think we've got the right to know exactly what makes him say You-Know-Who's back."

"Look," Hermione said, not wanting to lose control of the situation, "that's really not what this meeting was supposed to be about—"

"It's okay, Hermione," Harry said, speaking up for the first time. "What makes me say You-Know-Who's back?" he asked, looking Zacharias straight in the face. "I saw him. But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn't believe him, you don't believe me, and I'm not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone."

The whole group had fallen silent, everyone holding their breaths nervously. This definitely wasn't the first time that Harry had been forced to talk about what had happened deep in that maze last year, but this time was different. He couldn't just get up and walk away or sit and ignore it. Everyone was here to see him and hear what he had to say.

Zacharias crossed his arms, "All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric Diggory got killed by You-Know-Who and that you brought Diggory's body back to Hogwarts. He didn't give us details, he didn't tell us exactly how Diggory got murdered, I think we'd all like to know —"

"If you've come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone I can't help you," Harry huffed, clearly starting to get upset. I glanced at Fred, who stared intensely at Zacharias with his eyebrows bunched together. "I don't want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right? So if that's what you're here for, you might as well clear out."

No one got up, not even Zacharias. He did take his eyes away from Harry and rested them on me. "What about you, Riddle?" He asked, "Surely you know something."

My breath caught in my throat as a thousand thoughts hit my brain at once. I had never been questioned about Voldemort like that. "I've got nothing to do with this. I wasn't there when Cedric was murdered," I said plainly, trying to shut him down quickly.

But he didn't stop. "Well, you're related to him aren't you? Surely you would know if your grandfather rose from the dead."

"No actually, I wouldn't," I said curtly, "I'm no more connected to him than anyone else is. In fact, I don't think I've ever met him. And if I have, I definitely don't remember it." Fred grabbed my leg firmly, attempting to calm me down.

"But you believe Harry?" Zacharias continued.

I clenched my teeth, holding back from reaching across the table and choking him right there. "Of course I believe Harry. He's my friend and I trust him." I looked at Harry, who was looking back at me apologetically. "Besides, whether or not Voldemort is out there, we should be able to defend ourselves against _any_ kind of Dark magic. He isn't the only wizard to have ever fallen to the Dark Arts."

Everyone fell silent once again, even Zacharias. Harry was still staring at me, a grateful look now covering his face.

"So," said Hermione, trying to regain everyone's attention. "So . . . like I was saying . . . if you want to learn some defense, then we need to work out how we're going to do it, how often we're going to meet, and where we're going to —"

"Is it true," interrupted a Hufflepuff girl, looking at Harry, "that you can produce a Patronus?"

There was a murmur of interest around the group at this. "Yeah," said Harry slightly defensively.

"A corporeal Patronus?"

"Er — you don't know Madam Bones, do you?" he asked.

The girl smiled. "She's my auntie," she said. "I'm Susan Bones. She told me about your hearing. So — is it really true? You make a stag Patronus?"

"Yes," Harry nodded.

"Blimey, Harry!" said Lee, looking deeply impressed. "I never knew that!"

"Mum told Ron not to spread it around," said Fred next to me, grinning at Harry. "She said you got enough attention as it was."

"She's not wrong," Harry mumbled. Several people in the group laughed. He looked over at me again, "Besides, Olivia can produce one too."

I rolled my eyes at his modesty. "Can you really?" Angelina asked.

"She can!" Fred chimed, "I've seen it. A falcon."

I gave him a sideways glance. "Yeah, but I've never had to produce one in front of a real Dementor. That's totally different. Harry has proven his abilities in the real world."

"And did you kill a basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore's office?" demanded Terry Boot, pulling everyone's attention away from me. "That's what one of the portraits on the wall told me when I was in there last year."

"Er — yeah, I did, yeah," said Harry.

The whole group erupted into chatter, several people sounding off some of Harry's greatest accomplishments. Harry appeared to be getting increasingly uncomfortable, his face growing redder and redder with each thing they listed off. "Look," he said and everyone fell silent at once, "I don't want to sound like I'm trying to be modest or anything, but I had a lot of help with all that stuff."

"Not with the dragon, you didn't," said Michael Corner at once. "That was a seriously cool bit of flying."

"Yeah, well—" said Harry, feeling it would be churlish to disagree.

"And nobody helped you get rid of those dementors this summer," said Susan Bones.

"No," said Harry, "no, okay, I know I did bits of it without help, but the point I'm trying to make is —"

"Are you trying to weasel out of showing us any of this stuff?" said Zacharias Smith. The sound of his voice was enough to make my face hot with anger.

"Here's an idea," said Ron loudly, before Harry could speak, "why don't you shut your mouth?" Perhaps the word "weasel" had affected Ron particularly strongly; in any case, he was now looking at Zacharias as though he would like nothing better than to thump him. Zacharias flushed.

"Well, we've all turned up to learn from him, and now he's telling us he can't really do any of it," he said.

"That's not what he said," Fred snarled. I grabbed his hand where it still rested on my leg and he looked over at me. His palm was sweating.

"Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?" George inquired, pulling a long and lethal-looking metal instrument from inside one of the many Zonko's bags that he had acquired earlier that morning.

"Or any part of your body, really, we're not fussy where we stick this," Fred retorted. I stifled a laugh, silently wanting to watch that happen.

"Yes, well," said Hermione hastily, "moving on. The point is, are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry?"

There was a murmur of general agreement. Zacharias leaned back in his chair and said nothing, though perhaps this was because he was too busy keeping an eye on the instrument in George's hand.

"Right," said Hermione, looking relieved that something had at last been settled. "Well, then, the next question is how often we do it. I really don't think there's any point in meeting less than once a week—"

"Hang on," said Angelina, "we need to make sure this doesn't clash with our Quidditch practice."

"No," said Cho, "nor with ours."

"Nor ours," added Zacharias.

"I'm sure we can find a night that suits everyone," Hermione said, slightly impatiently, "but you know, this is rather important, we're talking about learning to defend ourselves against V-Voldemort's Death Eaters —"

"Well said!" barked Ernie Macmillan, speaking up for the first time. "Personally I think this is really important, possibly more important than anything else we'll do this year, even with our O.W.L.s coming up!"

He looked around impressively, as though waiting for people to cry, "Surely not!" However, nobody said anything. Frankly, at a time like this, not many of the fifth years were too bothered about their O.W.L.s and spent most of their study time badmouthing Umbridge. "I, personally, am at a loss to see why the Ministry has foisted such a useless teacher upon us at this critical period. Obviously they are in denial about the return of You-Know-Who, but to give us a teacher who is trying to actively pre- vent us from using defensive spells—"

"We think the reason Umbridge doesn't want us trained in Defense Against the Dark Arts," Hermione said decisively, "is that she's got some . . . some mad idea that Dumbledore could use the students in the school as a kind of private army. She thinks he'd mobilize us against the Ministry."

Nearly everybody looked stunned at this news; everybody except Luna Lovegood, who piped up, "Well, that makes sense. After all, Cornelius Fudge has got his own private army."

"What?" said Harry, along with several other including myself.

"Yes, he's got an army of heliopaths," said Luna solemnly.

"No, he hasn't," Hermione snapped.

"Yes, he has," Luna said.

"What are heliopaths?" Neville asked blankly.

"They're spirits of fire," Luna said, her protuberant eyes widening so that she looked madder than ever. "Great tall flaming creatures that gallop across the ground burning everything in front of —"

"They don't exist, Neville," Hermione said tartly.

"Oh yes they do!" Luna said angrily.

"I'm sorry, but where's the proof of that?" snapped Hermione.

"There are plenty of eyewitness accounts, just because you're so narrow-minded you need to have everything shoved under your nose before you —"

"Hem, hem."

Everyone jumped, looking around in alarm expecting to see Professor Umbridge lurking somewhere in the pub. Ginny, however, was laughing. I shook my head, realizing that it had been her. "Weren't we trying to decide how often we're going to meet and get Defense lessons?"

"Yes," said Hermione at once, "yes, we were, you're right."

"Well, once a week sounds cool," Lee Jordan said.

"As long as—" began Angelina.

"Yes, yes, we know about the Quidditch," said Hermione in a tense voice. "Well, the other thing to decide is where we're going to meet. . . ."

This question was much more difficult. Several people threw out ideas, ranging from the Library to McGonagall's classroom, but they were all severely flawed and would attract far too much attention.

"Right, well, we'll try to find somewhere," Hermione huffed impatiently. "We'll send a message around to everybody when we've got a time and a place for the first meeting." She reached into her bag and produced parchment and a quill, then hesitated, as though she was steeling herself to say something. "I-I think everybody should write their name down, just so we know who was here. But I also think," she took a deep breath, "that we all ought to agree not to shout about what we're doing. So if you sign, you're agreeing not to tell Umbridge —or anybody else— what we're up to."

Fred reached for the parchment eagerly and put down his signature. I followed, also keen about the idea. A few people raised quiet objections, though everyone did sign the parchment in the end. There was an odd feeling in the group now. It was as though they had just signed some kind of contract.

As everyone began to rise from the table, I grabbed Harry's arm across the table. "Hey, Harry?"

He turned to look at me, his green eyes wide. "Yeah?"

I leaned forward, not wanting anyone else to overhear me. "I've spent a great deal of time practicing defense as well. If you want, I would be happy to help you with the lessons," I said quietly.

He smiled, "Yeah. I would appreciate that. Thanks, Olivia."

I pulled back, returning my attention to the others in our group. "Well," Fred said briskly, "Do you fancy going for a half decent butterbeer?"

I looked down at my mug, which I had barely sipped at. "That sounds wonderful," I smiled, and Fred turned to George and Lee.

"Care to join us?" He asked. My heart sank. I had hoped that we would be able to spend some time on our own, but he had other plans.

They both nodded, "Sounds fantastic."

Together, the pack of us made our way out and down the street to the Three Broomsticks. This pub was far busier, with Hogwarts students filling most of the tables. "I'll get drinks," George said as we stepped inside, "You guys go grab a table."

We did just that, shuffling our way to the back of the room and seating ourselves in at a table tucked in the corner. I sat down beside Fred, his arm draping loosely over my shoulders. He gave me a smile and leaned down, kissing me lightly on the lips.

We both turned to look at Lee, who was sat across from up busying himself in digging through one of his bags from Zonko's. He looked up. "I'm going to go to the loo," he said hastily, standing up and striding off.

Finally, Fred and I were alone. Well, alone in the middle of a crowded pub that is. "Hi," He grinned, brushing a stray hair away from my face.

I smiled back. "Hi," I said under my breath as I stared up into his honey colored eyes. His hand fell from my temple and onto my cheek. Our lips met again, this time kissing deeper than before. I leaned further into him, his body holding my entire weight. His tongue slid past my lips, begging to enter my mouth. I let it, the room around us dissolving into nothingness.

"Can't you two do that somewhere else?" a voice said abruptly. We pulled apart faster than Viktor Krum chasing after a snitch. To my relief, it was only George. He was skillfully balancing four hot butterbeers in his hands, gently placing them on the table.

"No, not really," Fred said honestly, grabbing a glass and taking a sip. He was right. In the month that we had spent at Hogwarts so far, it was getting increasingly hard to find time to each other. We had slept together nearly every night back at Grimmauld Place when we first started seeing each other, but since we got here, we had no private time together.

George rolled his eyes, "The broom cupboard getting too small?"

Fred nearly choked on his butterbeer. "You know about that?" He coughed, his voice an octave higher than normal.

"The whole team knows about that. Both of you would disappear after practice and show up in the common room acting all giddy." I grabbed myself a mug and took a long sip, trying to hide my embarrassment behind the foam. Fred was glancing between me and George, bashful. "At least you're getting some," George joked. But his brother did not find this as amusing.

Luckily, Lee reappeared and immediately changed the subject. "So, gentlemen," he sighed as he sat back down, "How are we going to be collecting orders with Umbridge breathing down our necks?"

And that was the end of Fred and I's time together. The boys launched themselves back into conversation about Weasley's Wizard Wheezes as I looked on, forgotten. Of course I tried to be a supportive friend and girlfriend, but I couldn't help but feel a bit neglected. Occasionally, Fred would try to keep me involved and ask for my opinion, which was kind but I also wished we could talk about something other than that. Nevertheless, I didn't mention it, smiling and nodding along to their conversation.

While they talked, my eyes started to wander around the rest of the pub, observing the other students around us. A group of Hufflepuff third years were huddled around one table, riffling through their purchases from Honeyduke's excitedly. Just beyond them, I could see Ginny sitting with Michael Corner and a few of his Ravenclaw friends. And then my eyes fell on the one person that I dreaded seeing most: Draco Malfoy.

I still hadn't spoken to him all year, with the exception of telling him to piss off when the Slytherin Quidditch team tried to heckle us during practice. But there he sat his usual clan on the other side of the restaurant, Pansy leaning up against him. His arm was wrapped around her shoulders stiffly as she talked (probably badmouthing another poor girl). He wasn't looking at her though, and it appeared that he wasn't even listening. His cold eyes were on me. The second our gazes met, he turned away and whispered something to his friends. Then he stood, pushing his way towards the door.

I looked over at Fred, who didn't seem to notice that I wasn't paying him any attention. "I'll be right back," I said, planting a kiss on his cheek before rising and following Draco outside.

DRACO:

I could hear footsteps approaching me as I leaned against the wall in the alley next to the Three Broomsticks, my eyes closed. "I'm fine, love," I said harshly, assuming it was Pansy, "Please go back inside."

A very different voice responded, "I'm not your _love_ , Draco."

My head shot up, my eyes flashing open. It was Olivia. "What do you want? Don't you have Weasel to entertain?" I asked coldly, though I still didn't look at her.

"I'm not _entertaining_ him. And you looked upset," She spoke carefully, only a slight hint of hostility in her voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I muttered halfheartedly. But my throat felt like it was closing up, as if I would die if I didn't tell her how I was feeling. "No, Olivia, you know what? I'm not fine. I'm anything but fine," I snapped, surprised by the confidence in my own words. I finally looked down at her. she was stood only a few feet away, a pitiful look on her face. I could feel my heart breaking as I stared into her eyes. "I've been hopelessly in love with you for over a year now, you know that Olivia? I thought that you were different. You questioned me. You listened. I thought we had something. And then you went and got yourself a bloody boyfriend. It hurts. It fucking hurts."

She blinked slowly, her eyes big. "Draco," she whispered.

"No, Olivia, don't give me that shit," I hissed, stepping away from the wall and facing her properly, "Don't try and tell me that it's my fault. I know I messed up. And don't say that we can be friends. I don't want that. I want you. I'm in love with everything about you. The way you smile. The way you laugh. With the way that you scrunch your face up when you're thinking about something. Your kindness, and your selflessness." My heart was pounding as I watched her face change, every word hitting her like a bullet. Even as I stood here professing my love for the girl I couldn't get out of my head, I was angry. I was angry that she was with Fred. I was angry that she hadn't spoken to me all year. I was angry at myself for letting her get away. "You deserve everything that the world has to offer. You are smart, and kind, and beautiful. And most of all, you're forgiving. I never thought anyone would be able to forgive me for all the wrong that I have done. You were there for me through everything. But I'm done. I'm done watching Weasley hold you like that and kiss you where I should be kissing you. I'm miserable, Olivia. I'm bloody miserable."

She was quiet for a moment, her eyes not moving away from my face. My face, which was hot with a concoction of rage and shame. "Draco," she whispered again. "Why didn't you write me? And why are you with Pansy?"

"I'm sorry, Olivia," I breathed, not wanting to remember what had happened.

But she wouldn't let that go. "I thought you had forgotten about me, and then I see you snogging my worst enemy."

"I'm sorry," I said again. "But my father found out. He said that I couldn't write to you anymore."

She was shaking her head, clearly confused. "You never obeyed your father before. You knew that he wouldn't like this, that he wouldn't like us. You said that you didn't care. Why was this any different?"

"Because," I whispered, wincing. I had been trying not to remember it. "Because he used the Cruciatus Curse on me. I'm sorry, Olivia, but he—"

She cut me off. "Oh, Draco," she cried, her hand covering her mouth. "I'm so sorry. Snape told me you were fine and I assumed—"

"I don't need your pity," I laughed numbly, "It wasn't the first time."

But that didn't help. She grabbed my arm like a mother would to that of an upset child. I knew that she had meant this as comfort, but it only made me feel weak. "But what about Pansy?"

I looked down. "Pansy is what my parents want for me. Her family is wealthy and respected. They approve of her. But I don't love her. Hell, I don't even like her." She gave me that look again, the same look that she had given me months before when I told her about all of my fears. She knew. She knew that my worst nightmares were becoming my reality.

Instead of saying anything, she pulled me into an embrace. She gave the best hugs, the kind that was somehow able to make anyone feel at ease. I relaxed into her touch longingly.

"I want you," I whispered into her shoulder. "I want to be with you."

Those words made her pull away. "I'm sorry, Draco. I love you, but I'm happy with Fred," she whispered, but I heard a slight hesitation in her voice. Maybe I was making it up.

Despite the crushing sensation in my chest, I nodded, understanding. "I know. And I am happy for you. I am happy that someone can give you the happiness that you deserve."

We stood there for a moment, wordlessly. Her hand still rested lightly on my bicep, a small signal of hope. But when I looked down at it, it fell away. "You can still talk to me whenever you need to," she said, "I still care about you. A lot."

I nodded, hardly managing a feeble "thank you." And with that, she turned away and disappeared back inside the Three Broomsticks.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! I hope you liked this chapter. I've also decided to write a separate M-rated fic as a companion to this to cover some of the more explicit scenes that just didn't fit in this. So, if you're into that, the first part will be going up very soon.**

 **Thanks again for all of the support, don't forget to R &R :)**


	13. thirteen

OLIVIA:

The Great Hall was seemingly even more crowded than normal, the torrential rain forcing everyone inside. I was sitting surrounded by friends, the Quidditch team more specifically. "Bad news," Angelina huffed as she threw herself down next to George, "No practice tonight. We can't do anything in this weather."

"Good," said Harry quietly, when she told him, "because we've found somewhere to have our first Defense meeting. Tonight, eight o'clock, seventh floor opposite that tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by those trolls."

We all stared at him, confused. "We have?" I asked.

He looked up from his sausage and mash. "Yeah," he nodded, "Just be there. You'll see."

I looked over at Fred and George, who shrugged, not wanting to question him. Fred simply pushed his plate away, "Alright, time to get back to testing."

George followed in suit, standing up from the table. Instinctively, I did too. "See you guys later," I said, waving to the others.

And that we did. At eight o'clock sharp, the twins, Lee and I walked up to the seventh floor to find a large polished door with a big brass handle that I had never seen before. I looked at Fred nervously, unsure of whether or not we should go in. He reached forward and grabbed the handle, pulling the door open. The open room, which flickered with torches like those that illuminated the dungeons eight floors below, was filled with people. The walls were lined with wooden bookcases, and instead of chairs there were large silk cushions on the floor. A set of shelves at the far end of the room carried a range of instruments such as Sneakoscopes, Secrecy Sensors, and a large, cracked Foe-Glass.

"Well," said Harry as we all sat down on the cushions that covered the floor. "This is the place we've found for practices, and you've—er —obviously found it okay."

"It's fantastic!" said Cho, and several people murmured their agreement.

"It's bizarre," said Fred, frowning around at it. "We once hid from Filch in here, remember, George? But it was just a broom cupboard then. . . ."

"Hey, Harry, what's this stuff?" asked Dean from the rear of the room, indicating the Sneakoscopes and the Foe-Glass.

"Dark Detectors," Harry said, stepping between the cushions to reach them. "Basically they all show when Dark wizards or enemies are around, but you don't want to rely on them too much, they can be fooled."

"Well, I've been thinking about the sort of stuff we ought to do first and — er —" He noticed Hermione's hand that was high up in the air. "What, Hermione?"

"I think we ought to elect a leader," Hermione said.

"Harry's leader," Cho said at once, looking at Hermione as though she were angry that someone else would even be considered.

"Yes, but I think we ought to vote on it properly," Hermione said, unperturbed. "It makes it formal and it gives him authority. So, everyone who thinks Harry ought to be our leader?"

Everybody put up their hands, even Zacharias Smith, though he did it very halfheartedly.

"Er—right, thanks," said Harry, who was noticeably blushing. "And— what, Hermione?"

"I also think we ought to have a name," she said brightly, her hand still in the air. "It would promote a feeling of team spirit and unity, don't you think?"

"Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?" Angelina said hopefully. I smiled, nodding. I liked that idea.

"Or the Ministry of Magic Are Morons Group?" Fred suggested.

I let out a slight laugh, "Your dad works for the Ministry." He didn't say anything more, simply shrugging it off.

"I was thinking," Hermione said, frowning at Fred, "more of a name that didn't tell everyone what we were up to, so we can refer to it safely outside meetings."

"The Defense Association?" Cho said. "The D.A. for short, so nobody knows what we're talking about?"

"Yeah, the D.A.'s good," Ginny said. "Only let's make it stand for Dumbledore's Army because that's the Ministry's worst fear, isn't it?" There was a good deal of appreciative murmuring and laughter at this.

"All in favor of the D.A.?" said Hermione bossily, kneeling up on her cushion to count.

Fred didn't raise his hand. "I still prefer the Ministry of Magic are Morons," he muttered next to me.

"That's a majority—motion passed!" Hermione said, ignoring Fred. She pinned the piece of paper with all of our names on it on the wall and wrote DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY across the top in large letters.

"Right," Harry, said when she had sat down again, "Next order of business." His eyes fell on me. "You guys all know Olivia. She is an incredibly talented witch, and with so many of us, we thought it would be good to have her help me out with training."

I smiled at him, glad that he had accepted my offer. But my happiness was soon interrupted by the sound of Zacharias Smith's voice.

"Wait," He huffed, "We're learning defense magic from a Riddle?"

Both of the Weasley twins attempted to lunge for him, but I grabbed onto Fred, Lee clinging onto George's arm. "She happens to be one of the most powerful witches at Hogwarts," Harry said defiantly.

"Because of You-Know-Who," Zacharias sneered.

Angelina crossed her arms, glaring at him. "You just don't like her because she's a better a chaser than you are," She scoffed.

"Let me at him," Fred growled. Despite the angered look that he shot me, I didn't let go. "I can't let him treat you like that."

I shook my head, "It's okay. Everyone treats me like that."

There was an odd silence before Harry took a deep breath. "Shall we get practicing then?" He said, trying to defuse the tension. "I was thinking, the first thing we should do is _Expelliarmus_ , you know, the Disarming Charm. I know it's pretty basic but I've found it really useful —"

"Oh please," said Zacharias, rolling his eyes and folding his arms. "I don't think _Expelliarmus_ is exactly going to help us against You-Know-Who, do you?"

"I've used it against him," said Harry quietly. "It saved my life last June." Smith opened his mouth stupidly. The rest of the room was very quiet. "But if you think it's beneath you, you can leave," Harry said. Smith did not move. Nor did anybody else.

"Okay," said Harry, "I reckon we should all divide into pairs and practice. Olivia, you and I can walk around and help them master it." I nodded, standing up and dusting off my robes. Everybody else got to their feet at once and divided up. Predictably, Neville was left partnerless.

"You can practice with me," Harry told him, "Olivia, you can watch that end of the room," He suggested, nodding his head on the opposite end of the group. I smiled softly and made my way over there.

"Right — on the count of three, then — one, two, three —"

The room was suddenly full of shouts of " _Expelliarmus_!" Wands flew in all directions, missed spells hit books on shelves and sent them flying into the air. I had to dodge Michael Corner's wand, which Ginny had managed to send flying in my direction. I picked it up from where it clattered onto the floor, handing it back to him.

"Nice job, Ginny," I nodded. "Michael, you're a bit slow. You're thinking too much. Don't worry about jinxing her, she's tough." I smiled at Ginny, who giggled.

Glancing around the room, I was glad that Harry had suggested that they practice the basics first; there was a lot of shoddy spellwork going on. Many people were not succeeding in disarming their opponents at all, but merely causing them to jump backward a few paces or wince as the feeble spell whooshed over them.

Harry seemed to have handed Neville off to practice with Ron and Hermione, making his way towards the center of the room. We were both eyeing the same person: Zacharias. Every time he opened his mouth to disarm Anthony Goldstein, his own wand would fly out of his hand, yet Anthony did not seem to be making a sound. I met Harry's eyes and suppressed a laugh. It didn't take long to find the culprits. Fred and George were several feet from Smith and taking it in turns to point their wands at his back.

"Sorry, Harry," said George hastily, when Harry caught his eye. "Couldn't resist."

He didn't say anything though, simply returning his attention to the rest of the group. I continued to move about the room, stopping here and there to make suggestions. Slowly, the general performance began to improve. I kept an eye on Zacharias. Fred and George had stopped their tricks, but he still failed to cast the spell with very much accuracy. "Don't flourish your wand so much," I instructed from behind him.

He scoffed, "I think I've got it, thanks."

I raised my eyebrows, walking to the other side of the pair and facing him. "Well, clearly you haven't. You have yet to successfully disarm Anthony."

"I don't see you disarming anyone either," he taunted.

Without another word, I pulled out my wand from where I had tucked it in the waist of my skirt. With a sharp flick of my wrist, Zacharias's wand flew from his grasp and clattered to the ground several feet away. With another flick, it rocketed itself into my hand.

Somehow, Zacharias still had something to complain about. "That's not fair. I wasn't ready."

"You'll never be _ready,_ " I snapped, thrusting his wand back at him. He tore it from my hand and swiftly turned his back on me. I bit back another remark, walking away.

Rather than indulging myself in bickering with someone so arrogant, I approached Fred and George. When they saw me walking in their direction, they ceased practicing, lowering their wands. "I'm going to kill that guy," Fred said lowly.

"It's okay, really," I said, waving a dismissive hand.

"Angelina's right. He's just jealous," George smirked.

"Hey, Harry," Hermione called from the other end of the room, "have you checked the time?"

Harry glanced down at his watch and a look of shock crossed his face. Immediately, he reached for the whistle that hung around his neck. "Well, that was pretty good," said Harry, "but we've overrun, we'd better leave it here. Same time, same place next week?"

"Sooner!" said Dean Thomas eagerly and many people nodded in agreement.

Angelina, however, said quickly, "The Quidditch season's about to start, we need team practices too!"

"Let's say next Wednesday night, then," said Harry, "and we can decide on additional meetings then. Come on, we'd better get going."

And that set the general tone for all of our meetings to come. We met every week, though it had proven nearly impossible to fix a regular night as we had to accommodate three separate Quidditch teams' practices, which were often rearranged depending on the weather conditions. Though it was possibly for the best that they were kept unpredictable. If anyone was watching us, it would be hard to make out a pattern. I tried to avoid Zacharias as much as possible, as whenever I tried to help him, he made some sort of snide remark. That was fine by me though. The less I had to deal with him, the better. I thought that he would be the worst of my troubles, but the first Quidditch match of the season proved me wrong.

I followed Angelina and Katie down to the pitch, my usual pre-match nerves already starting to fester. As usual, the first match of the year was Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. This match was always the most intense of the whole year, the centuries long rivalry taking over the whole school for weeks before. It was noticeably more fierce than I had every seen before, likely because we didn't have Quidditch at all the previous year. I wasn't only nervous about that though. I knew that Ron was a decent Quidditch player, but in our recent practices, he seemed to cripple under any amount of pressure. God knows how he would respond to a pitch filled with hundreds of spectators. I had already caught a glimpse at the Slytherin's WEASLEY IS OUR KING pins, which already wasn't a good sign. If I knew anything about the Slytherin team, they definitely had more planned.

And then there was the fact that we would be playing against Draco. We hadn't had a real conversation since the alley in Hogsmead, but we had progressed to slight smiles when we passed in the corridors. Something about playing against him made a strange apprehension stir inside of me, but I tried my best to push it down.

Angelina took to talking our ears off while we changed into our robes, going on about strategy and the final Quidditch lineup. "Montague has put some blokes called Crabbe and Goyle as Beaters. I don't know much about them," She huffed as she did up her boots.

"Aren't they Malfoy's goons?" Katie asked.

It took me a moment to realize that they were both looking at me. "What?" I asked, accidentally sounding a bit mean.

"You dated the guy. Surely you know his sidekicks," Angelina said.

I raised an eyebrow. "We went on one date because he was dared to. But I do know of them. They fit the same mould of Montague's typical boneheads. I wouldn't worry too much about them."

Just at that moment, Fred and George walked into the changing room. I gave Fred a smile, thankful that he wasn't there to hear us talking about Draco. With a small peck on the lips, he made his way to change himself, trying not to distract from the other's mental preparation for the match.

"Nice robes," George said with a wink, pointing out my brand new ones that now read "RIDDLE" on the back in big letters. I smiled bigger, pleased that he had noticed.

Angelina kept talking. I did my best to drown her out as I went through my usual pre-match thoughts and focus on the match to come, but I couldn't manage to get Draco's face out of my mind. But I couldn't let it distract me from the match.

"It's time," said Angelina in a hushed voice, pulling me out of my thoughts. "C'mon everyone . . . good luck."

The team rose, shouldered their brooms, and marched in single file out of the changing room and into the dazzling sunlight. The Slytherin team was already on the pitch, waiting for us. I tried to drown out the loud cheers and whistles, which rang faintly in my ears. _Don't look at him,_ my mind screamed as I tried to keep my eyes on the other members of the Slytherin team. But Draco Malfoy was hard to miss. He stood off to one side, slightly separated from the rest of his team, the sun gleaming against his white-blond head. He was staring down at the grass, his eyes glossy. I took a deep breath and pulled my stare away from him.

"Captains shake hands," ordered the umpire, Madam Hooch, as Angelina and Montague reached each other. I could tell that Montague was trying to crush Angelina's fingers, though she did not wince. "Mount your brooms."

Madam Hooch placed her whistle in her mouth and blew.

The balls were released and all fourteen players pushed off the ground, shooting off in every direction.

Angelina was the first to the Quaffle. I lay flat against my broomstick to speed up next to her, but Montague was hot on my heels. I rose above her as she cut across the pitch, dodging Warrington. A Bludger flew from Crabbe's direction and hit her square in the back, causing the Quaffle to fly out of her grasp.

Montague caught it and darted back down the pitch. I trailed behind him, catching the Quaffle as George hit him in the head with a Bludger.

"And Olivia Riddle of Gryffindor catches the Quaffle!" I heard Lee Jordan shout. A chill ran through me as I heard my full name echo through the stadium, giving me an extra boost of confidence as I rocketed towards the goal posts, dodging Bludger and other players. The path ahead of me was entirely unobstructed, with the exception of Bletchley, the Slytherin Keeper. I pulled my arm back and threw the ball, not wasting a second to see if he blocked it, but turned around to focus on the next play. From the sounds of it, Bletchley had saved the goal, a collective sigh filling the stands.

"Dammit," I muttered to myself under my breath. I knew that I should have passed back to Angelina, but my pride and adrenaline got the better of me. Bletchley threw the Quaffle to Warrington who sped off with it, zigzagging in between Angelina and Katie. As I watched him draw nearer to Ron at our goalposts, I could hear singing coming from the spectators.

 _Weasley is our King,_

 _Weasley is our King,_

 _He always lets the Quaffle in,_

 _Weasley is our King._

"— and it's Warrington with the Quaffle, Warrington heading for goal, he's out of Bludger range with just the Keeper ahead —"

A great swell of song rose from the Slytherin stands below:

 _Weasley cannot save a thing,_

 _He cannot block a single ring._

"— so it's the first test for new Gryffindor Keeper, Weasley, brother of Beaters, Fred and George, and a promising new talent on the team — come on, Ron!"

But the scream of delight came from the Slytherin end: Ron had dived wildly, his arms wide, and the Quaffle had soared between them, straight through Ron's central hoop.

"Slytherin score!" came Lee's voice amid the cheering and booing from the crowds below. "So that's ten-nil to Slytherin — bad luck, Ron . . ."

"Come on Ron!" I groaned in annoyance.

The Slytherins sang even louder:

 _WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN,_

 _HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN . . ._

"— and Gryffindor back in possession and it's Katie Bell tanking up the pitch —" cried Lee valiantly, though the singing was now so deafening that he could hardly make himself heard above it.

 _WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN,_

 _WEASLEY IS OUR KING . . ._

I soared back across the pitch behind Katie, who passed back to me when she was surrounded by a swarm of green. This time, I ducked low, swooping below all of the other players to find a patch of unguarded territory. I threw the ball again, this time watching it soar through the left hoop. Cheers rang out from the Gryffindor side.

We went back and forth like that for what seemed like forever, Slytherin eventually gaining a substantial lead against us as Ron failed to block a single score. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Draco circling the pitch in search of the snitch. I did my best to block him out, but that was nearly impossible as he streaked out of the sky behind Harry, diving for the snitch.

I forced my eyes away, training them on Angelina who made her way across the pitch and scored. Another cheer rang out, followed by a much louder one as Harry grasped the snitch. A Bludger hit Harry squarely in the small of the back and he flew forward off his broom; luckily he was only five or six feet above the ground, having dived so low to catch the Snitch. An uproar broke out in the stands compounded of catcalls, angry yells and jeering, and a thud.

"Are you alright?" I shouted, rushing to his aid.

" 'Course I am," said Harry grimly, taking my hand and allowing me to pull him to his feet. Madam Hooch was zooming toward one of the Slytherin players above us.

"It was that thug, Crabbe," I said angrily. "He whacked the Bludger at you the moment he saw you'd got the Snitch — but we won, Harry, we won!" I pulled him into a celebratory hug, the rest of our team swarming around us. Amidst the cheers and celebration, however, I could hear Malfoy who had landed close by; white-faced with fury, he was still managing to sneer.

"Saved Weasley's neck, haven't you?" he said to Harry. "I've never seen a worse Keeper . . . but then he was born in a bin. . . . Did you like my lyrics, Potter?" Harry turned away to join the rest of the team, but I stared at Draco in confusion. This was not him.

Draco wasn't looking at Harry though. Instead, his eyes flashed up towards the stands. I followed his gaze and saw two other white haired spectators. His parents.

"We wanted to write another couple of verses!" Malfoy called after Harry, "But we couldn't find rhymes for fat and ugly — we wanted to sing about his mother, see," I shot him an ugly look, but he wasn't paying me any attention. Anger had started to boil inside of me at the insults towards the Weasleys, who were almost as important to me as they were to their own children. "— we couldn't fit in useless loser either — for his father, you know —"

Fred and George seemed to tune in to what Malfoy was on about. Halfway through shaking Harry's hand they stiffened, looking around at Draco. "Leave it," I said at once as if speaking to a dog, grabbing Fred by the arm. "Leave it, Fred, let him yell, he's just sore he lost—"

"— but you like the Weasleys, don't you, Potter?" said Malfoy, who was still glancing at the stands nervously. "Spend holidays there and everything, don't you? Can't see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you've been dragged up by Muggles even the Weasleys' hovel smells okay —"

"Draco," I growled, struggling to keep Fred from lunging for him. "Cut it out."

He met my eyes. He was smiling, but I could see in his face that it was forced. "Or perhaps," he kept on, leering as he backed away, "you can remember what your mother's house stank like, Potter, and Weasley's pigsty reminds you of it —"

I saw a flash of red come from behind me, both Harry and George in pursuit of Draco, who attempted to run. He was too late, four fists flying at him from every angle. "Harry! HARRY! GEORGE! NO!" I heard myself scream, but it was no use. Draco was already pinned against the grass, blood streaming from his face. He wasn't putting up much of a fight, seemingly just trying to get the other boys off of him.

Everything was happening at once. I could hear girls' voices screaming, Malfoy yelling, George swearing, a whistle blowing, and the bellowing of the crowd around us as Katie, Angelina, and I fought against Fred's strength. I would have reached for my wand, but I couldn't let go of Fred in fear that he too would attack Draco.

"IMPEDIMENTA!" Someone shouted, sending both Gryffindor boys flying backwards. "What do you think you're doing?" screamed Madam Hooch as Harry leapt to his feet again; it was she who had hit him with the Impediment Jinx. She was holding her whistle in one hand and a wand in the other, her broom lay abandoned several feet away. Draco was left curled on the ground, moaning in pain. George was sporting a swollen lip and Harry had what looked like the early stages of a black eye.

"Fred, stop," I barked as he continued to struggle against us. He stopped fighting, but his eyes remained trained on the green lump on the ground. I felt a strange urge to rush to Draco's side, but I stopped myself. Looking at him now caused concoction of worry and disgust to fill my being. This was not the Draco that I knew, but it was he who had made the crown pins and written the song about Ron. "Where is Ron?" I asked, realizing that he was not on the pitch. Nobody answered.

"You four get going before you make matters worse," Madame Hooch ordered to us as she knelt beside Draco. I turned away towards the changing rooms, tugging Fred along behind me.

The Great Hall was filled with a new charged energy at dinner, completely different from the competitive spirit that had rung around breakfast time. I sat beside Fred and the rest of the team in utter silence, no one saying anything about what had just happened. The Slytherin table, however, was filled with chatter. Montague was laughing about how Crabbe had gotten off with lines for hitting Harry with the Bludger, while several others had taken to mocking Ron (who was still nowhere to be found). Draco wasn't there either, likely in the hospital wing having his nose mended.

"They're awful," Angelina snarled, "just awful."

Fred was staring at them, his eyes more intense than I had every seen. "You should have let me at them," he muttered angrily. He had been sat like this since we got here, not touching the plate of food in front of him.

"No," I said harshly, "That would only have made things worse."

He finally looked at me for the first time since the match. "How could it be worse?" He asked.

"You could be sat in McGonagall's office with George and Harry," I said, trying to stay calm.

"I don't care. Malfoy deserved what he got. And he should have gotten worse."

I shook my head but didn't say anything more to him. Clearly he wasn't in the mood for hearing reason. "I'm going to go do some damage control," I said to the others, standing up and abandoning my uneaten dinner. No one said anything as I walked away, headed for the hospital wing.

DRACO:

"What the hell was that?" I heard someone yell as I sat on a bed in the hospital wing, still in my Quidditch things. I didn't lift my eyes from the floor, already knowing who it was. I was already disgusted with myself and looking at her would only make it worse.

"I'm sorry," I muttered quietly, my busted lip aching as I spoke.

"Sorry?" She huffed, "Draco, what got into you out there?"

I took a deep breath, blinking back hot tears. The anger in her voice was worse than I had ever heard before. "I'm sorry," I repeated, not knowing what else to say, "I shouldn't have done that."

She didn't say anything.

"My parents," I struggled to say, "They were at the match. I couldn't let them see me be completely humiliated."

She took a deep breath, sitting down on the bed across from me. "So you decided that it would be okay to completely humiliate everyone else?"

"I didn't mean for it to go that far," I spat, looking up to meet her eyes for the first time. "Once I started, I couldn't stop. I lost control of myself, Olivia. I don't know why it happens, but it's like something takes over my mind and I can't control it."

She stared at me sadly. As much as I hated disappointing my parents, disappointing her was worse. The mournful look on her face broke my heart. That was something I never got from either of my parents. They only got angry with me. But her anger from before had dissolved. "Are you okay?" She asked softly.

I nodded feebly. "They broke my nose, and a couple ribs, but I deserved it. I shouldn't have done that."

Her face softened even more, giving me the same look of pity that she had a couple months ago when I told her about my dad using that curse on me. "Are your parents upset?"

I shrugged, causing pain to shoot up my side. "They just left. They said that it was disgraceful to see me brought down by a Weasley and Potter. They said I should have fought back." I said they, but really it had only been my father. My mother didn't say anything to me at all.

"I'm glad that you didn't," She said with a weak smile. That smile was enough to make my whole body relax. "I know you didn't mean it. I'm sorry that the boys attacked you like that."

I shook my head, not wanting her pity, "Thanks for holding your boyfriend back. I'd be as good as dead if he'd gotten ahold of me."

She giggled slightly. I, however, put my head in my hands in shame. This girl was so kind and so understanding that I could speak ill of everyone she loved and she would still forgive me. How did I allow myself to let her down?

I felt a gentle kiss on my cheek. "Get better, Draco. Madame Pomfrey will take good care of you."

She stood up and I heard her footsteps trailing out of the room. When I finally lifted my head, she was disappearing around the corner.


	14. fourteen

**I am so sorry that it has been so long! I've been very busy with Uni and haven't had the time to write, but here is the chapter. Hopefully the next one won't take so long. Enjoy!**

* * *

OLIVIA:

A sudden crash somewhere in the common room jolted me out of my sleep. Once again, I had nodded off while slumped over a homework assignment at the table. I lifted my head and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, glancing around the room to find the culprit. A small shadowy figure fumbled about by the fire trying to turn the fireplace tools upright, having knocked them over. I vaguely recognized the elf to be the one that Harry had freed several years ago. "Dobby?" I called into the dark.

The poor house elf jumped, startled. "Olivia! Olivia Riddle! Friend of Harry Potter?"

"That's me," I said groggily, standing up and crossing the room in his direction.

"Dobby is so sorry to disturb Ms. Olivia Riddle," he said hastily, still struggling with the tool rack. I leaned down and fixed it for him. "Dobby will be going now!"

"Dobby, wait!" I called after him as he hurried for the door.

He stopped dead in his tracks, wringing his hands nervously, "Yes, Ms. Riddle?"

I stepped closer to him. "Dobby, is it true that you used to serve the Malfoy family?"

He looked stunned at the sound of his previous Master's name. "Y-yes, ma'am," he muttered, nodding his head furiously.

I felt a smile start to play at my lips as I gently sat down on the edge of a chair by the fire. "Is there anything that you can tell me about them, the Malfoys?" I asked, trying not to sound too suspicious.

Dobby looked taken aback, but he answered anyway. "Dobby could tell Ms. Riddle…" he hesitated, "Dobby could tell Ms. Riddle that his old masters were — were — _bad Dark wizards._ " He looked appalled at his own daring, rushing over to the table in front of me and abruptly began to bang his head on it very hard muttering " _Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!_ "

"Dobby!" I whispered, seizing him by the back of his jumper (which had clearly been given to him by Ron) and pulling him backwards. "Of course they are. Everyone knows that." He stared at me with his big tennis ball eyes, bewildered. "But what about the boy, Draco, your Master's son? Can you tell me anything about him?" I asked daringly, hoping no one else was around to hear.

His eyes brightened. "Dobby likes Draco, Miss. Draco was kind to Dobby."

I smiled bigger, "Was he?"

"Y-yes! Draco would give Dobby food." The house-elf was smiling too.

I nodded, though that wasn't quite what I wanted to know. "What about his parents? Were his parents kind to him?"

Dobby shook his head. "Oh, no! They was mean to Draco. Dobby's master would punish Draco."

Though I already knew this, hearing it from someone other than Draco made my heart clench. "Was Draco a Dark wizard?"

He seemed to ponder that for a moment. "No. Draco was not bad," he said finally, "Draco was made to do bad things."

I bit back from asking what things he was forced to do, not knowing if I could handle the answer.

"Dobby saw Draco last year!" He said happily, "Dobby gave him food from the kitchen!"

I smiled again, knowing exactly what Dobby was talking about. I remembered that night out by the lake like it was yesterday, everything from the conversation to the cheeky glint in his eye when he talked to the basket full of butterbeers and snacks. "Yes, he did," I nodded.

"Harry Potter does not like Draco Malfoy," he said, looking down at the floor. I shook my head, though this was something that I definitely already knew. If only I could get Harry and the others to see Draco the way Dobby and I did.

"Okay," I sighed, drifting into thought, "That's all. Thank you, Dobby."

The house-elf gave a sharp nod before turning away and exiting the common room. I watched him disappear into the dark corridor, alone once again. The crackling fire was the only thing that filled the eerie silence. I sat back in my chair and pulled my knees to my chest, staring into the blaze. Though I hadn't learned anything profoundly new about the Malfoy family, hearing it from someone who had experienced it first hand made it so much more real.

Draco was stuck in my mind, but not in the same longing way that he had been before. This time, all that I wanted to do was help him. Witnessing his outburst at the Quidditch match made me realize just how much his parents affected him. He was so afraid after loosing the match to Harry. A nagging thought tugged at my mind. That tantrum wasn't entirely about his parents or loosing. I had seen the looks that he had given Fred during meals and in the corridors. He had so much anger built up towards Fred, and thus, the Weasleys altogether. It was partially my fault.

Another loud noise pulled me away from my thoughts, this time from the boys' staircase. I wiped around to see who it was. "Neville?" I called into the darkness.

His wide eyes flashed up at me. "Olivia!" he said, his voice sounding panicked. Immediately, I knew that something wasn't right.

"What's wrong?" I asked, standing up.

"H-Harry. Harry is ill," he said hurriedly, "I need to find Professor McGonagall."

That was not the answer that I was expecting. "Is he okay? What's wrong?" I asked, but it was too late. Neville had already disappeared through the portrait and I was left alone and confused. I glanced back at the staircase that Neville had emerged from, contemplating going up to investigate. But then I thought better of it. The boys probably had the situation under control, and if Harry truly was ill, he probably wouldn't want another person up in his face.

Instead, I took to pacing the length of the common room, completely abandoning the homework that I had been up working on in the first place. The sound of the fire was now joined by the steady beat of my footsteps on the cold floor and the rapid _th-thump_ of my heart . My mind was racing again, as it always was. Most of my nights were spent like this nowadays, wide awake at the mercy of my own mind. I had been sleeping very little, and when I did, it was fitful and frequently interrupted by vivid nightmares. Being left alone was something that I had begun to fear, because when I was alone, all I had to keep me company were my own thoughts. I was beginning to understand how Draco had felt. The reality of Voldemort's return consumed me.

Luckily, I wasn't left alone for long. "Ms. Riddle, dear?" I heard from near the portrait hole. I recognized the voice immediately as our head of house. "What are you doing out of bed?"

I turned around to face her. "Couldn't sleep," I said passively. Her face was full of concern, but she didn't comment. She simply followed Neville back up to the boys' dormitory, and I was alone again.

 _Th-thump, th-thump. Th-thump, th-thump._

The longer I waited, the faster it grew.

 _Th-thump, th-thump._

There was a great racket coming down the stairs. Professor McGonagall was in the lead, followed closely by Harry, who was half-carried by Ron. The dark haired boy looked ghostly pale in the light of the fire. His hair was plastered to his forehead, sweating profusely. "Harry?" I asked at the sight of him.

"Riddle, get yourself to bed," McGonagall ordered, hurrying back through the portrait, the boys behind her.

Alone, again.

 _Th-thump, th-thump._

"Do you think it's You-Know-Who?" a voice asked from up the stairs. Three pairs of footsteps came pattering into the common room: Neville, Dean, and Seamus. All three of them were looking a bit jostled and confused in their bedclothes.

"What is going on?" I asked, interrupting their conversation.

Dean and Seamus looked startled. "Olivia?" Seamus asked.

"Why are you still in your robes?" Dean raised.

I looked between them. "One question at a time. What is going on with Harry?"

"He had some kind of nightmare, I guess," Dean answered, "He got sick all over the room, said something about Mr. Weasley being hurt."

That peaked my attention. "Mr Weasley? What did he say about Mr. Weasley?"

Both of them shook their heads. "Answer our questions first," Seamus said with a smirk.

"I fell asleep while working on a potions essay," I huffed, waving them off. "Now what did Harry say about Mr. Weasley?"

"Harry said he's been attacked by a snake," Dean said plainly.

Seamus shrugged when he saw the look on my face, "It was probably just a dream." I wasn't so sure of that, but I didn't say anything more, slumping back into my chair at the table. If I couldn't sleep before, I definitely couldn't now. The boys seemed to share a similar sentiment, too awake to return to their beds. Instead, they sat down at the table with me and busied themselves with a game of Exploding Snap. I looked on, too deep in thought to participate.

Mr. Weasley had always been the closest thing that I had to a father. It was he who taught me how to ride a broomstick (with the help of Bill and Charlie). He would always let me tag along whenever he did anything with the twins. He had become almost as protective of me as he was of his own daughter. I had no idea what I would do if he was hurt.

It felt like we sat there at that table for ages. I watched the games halfheartedly, though I appreciated the distraction. The boys didn't get nearly as rowdy as usual, seemingly also worried about Harry. They didn't stop playing until Professor McGonagall returned. "Children, get to bed!" she scolded. The four of us stood up abruptly, not wanting to cause any more trouble. "Except for you, Olivia. I need to speak with you."

I froze. "What is it, Professor?" I asked cautiously.

She hesitated, stepping closer to me. "I'm afraid Arthur Weasley has been gravely injured in his work for the Order of the Phoenix. I have been sent to collect you and the remaining Weasley children."

My heart dropped. It was true. Arthur was hurt. "I can get the boys," I suggested flatly.

She looked taken aback at my lack of worry, but I knew that if I let any of my emotion out, I wouldn't be able to contain them again. "Thank you, dear. I assume they would much rather you then myself."

Without another word, I made my way up the stairs. My previously overactive mind had gone completely blank, unable to fathom what had happened to Mr. Weasley. What was I doing? I couldn't possibly tell the boys that their father was hurt so terribly. I could hardly even think about it without feeling sick. No wonder Harry had looked so dreadful, if he truly had seen it happen…

I tiptoed gingerly across the year seven boys' dormitory to Fred's bedside, the farthest one from the door. He was sleeping heavily on his stomach, the sound of his familiar snores muffled into his pillow. I knelt down in front of him, a gentle hand on his back as not to startle him too terribly. "Gorgeous?" I whispered, shaking him lightly. "Hey, gorgeous, wake up."

His eyelids fluttered open, his face barely illuminated by the faint moonlight that seeped through the drapes. "Ollie?" He said quietly, lifting his head off of his pillow to see me better. I could tell that his face was scrunched in confusion.

"Hi," I said with a weak smile, "you need to get up. It's your father, he's been hurt"

He suddenly appeared wide awake. "Dad? Is he okay?" His voice was filled with a kind of deep concern that I had only heard a handful of times before.

I shrugged, not knowing what to tell him. "Professor McGonagall asked for you and George. That's all that I know." Of course, the wasn't the whole truth. I knew that Harry had dreamt it, but that seemed to be a trivial detail at the moment.

Fred sat up, his blanket falling away from his body. He had been sleeping topless, as always. I could still see the lines on his stomach in the darkness, though they had started to fade since his banishment from the Quidditch team. I leaned forward and placed a kiss on his cheek, to which he didn't seem to react. I didn't say anything more, moving across the room to wake George.

George's reaction was nearly identical to his brother's, stark confusion with a helping of worry. I waited silently as they both pulled on jumpers and slippers before leading the way back to the common room. Professor McGonagall was waiting, a puzzled looking Ginny by her side. Neither said a word, McGonagall beckoning for us to follow her. We did so without question.

We walked through the dark corridors of the castle, which made me feel slightly on edge. Being out of bed in the late hours of the night would typically land a student in detention, and even with a professor leading the way, I felt an odd sense of anxiety. While we walked, I watched Fred out of the corner of my eye. He trudged on with his head low, his face unreadable. As much as I wanted to reach out and grab his hand, I held back. I did not want to intrude on his thoughts, nor did I want such a public display of affection directly in front of Professor McGonagall.

In a few minutes we reached the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office. "Fizzing Whizbee," Professor McGonagall said, causing the gargoyle to spring to life. The wall behind it split in two to reveal a stone staircase that was moving continuously upward like a spiral escalator. All four of us stepped onto the moving stairs, the wall closed behind with a thud, and we were moving upward in tight circles until we reached the highly polished oak door with the brass knocker shaped like a griffin.

McGonagall did not reach for the knocker, instead pushing the door aside immediately. Beyond it, Harry and Ron sat in a pair of high-backed wooden chairs looking just as shaken as before. Dumbledore was stood on the opposite side of the room in front of an empty picture frame.

Ginny was the first to speak, "Harry, what's going on?" she asked, looking frightened. "Professor McGonagall says you saw Dad hurt—"

"Your father has been injured in the course of his work for the Order of the Phoenix," Dumbledore interrupted. "He has been taken to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I am sending you back to Sirius's house, which is much more convenient for the hospital than the Burrow. You will meet your mother there."

"How're we going?" Fred spoke up, his voice shaking. "Floo powder?"

"No," Dumbledore shook his head, "Floo powder is not safe at the moment, the Network is being watched. You will be taking a Portkey." He indicated the old kettle lying innocently on his desk. "We are just waiting for Phineas Nigellus to report back. I wish to be sure that the coast is clear before sending you."

The room fell oddly silent, a desolate tone in the air. I felt strangely as though I were intruding, seeing as I was not directly involved in the incident. Harry had seen the attack and the others were all Weasleys. I didn't belong here. "Professor Dumbledore," I said, breaking the quiet, "why have you summoned me? I am not a child of Arthur's."

He turned to look as me, peering over the rims of his half-moon glasses. "Arthur loves you like you are a child of his. I surely hope that love is returned," he said distantly.

I stared at him, open-mouthed, unsure what to say. Of course I loved Arthur. He was the only strong male figure that I had in my life. But he had so many children of his own to love. Surely I was second-rate to all of them. "Yes, sir," I muttered uncertainly. For the first time since we left the Gryffindor tower, Fred met my eyes. He pursed his lips, also at a loss for words.

There was a flash of flame in the very middle of the office, leaving behind a single golden feather that floated gently to the floor.

"It is Fawkes's warning," Dumbledore said, catching the feather as it fell. "She must know you're out of your beds." Instantly, I knew that he was talking about Umbridge. "Minerva, go and head her off —tell her any story—" She didn't need to be told twice, quickly disappearing back through the large door.

A new voice grabbed our attention. "He says he'll be delighted," said a bored voice behind Dumbledore; the wizard from the empty portrait had reappeared— this must have been Phineas. "My great-great-grandson has always had odd taste in houseguests."

"Come here, then," Dumbledore swiftly. "And quickly, before anyone else joins us . . ."

The lot of us gathered around his desk, eyeing the kettle. "You have all used a Portkey before?" Dumbledore asked. We all nodded and I couldn't keep my eyes from flashing towards Harry. The last time that he had traveled by Portkey, Cedric Diggory was murdered and Voldemort made his return. We all reached out to touch it, Fred's other hand finding itself clutching my shoulder. "Good. On the count of three then . . . one . . . two . ."

* * *

 **Thanks so much for reading! Don't forget to leave a little review.**


	15. fifteen

"What's going on?" Sirius asked the moment that we appeared in the dark basement kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place, stretching out a hand to help Ginny up. "Phineas Nigellus said Arthur's been badly injured —"

"Ask Harry," Fred said as he pulled me to my feet. I could sense a slight distaste in his words. Surely he wasn't _angry_ at Harry for this, was he?

"Yeah, I want to hear this for myself," said George.

Our eyes all shifted to rest on Harry. Kreacher's footsteps had stopped on the stairs outside. "It was —I had a — a kind of — vision. . . ." he started, glancing around nervously. From there, he launched into a detailed story of a dark corridor, a snake, and Mr. Weasley. We all stared at him, blank faced, as he spoke. Fred, who stood only inches away from me, had his arms crossed warily over his chest. I could feel the tension radiating off of him. I reached out and grabbed at his arm, but he shrugged it off.

"Is Mum here?" He asked after Harry had finished.

Sirius shook his head, "She probably doesn't even know what's happened yet. The important thing was to get you away before Umbridge could interfere. I expect Dumbledore's letting Molly know now."

"We've got to go to St. Mungo's," Ginny said urgently. She looked around at her brothers; they were of course still in their pajamas. "Sirius, can you lend us cloaks or anything—?"

"Hang on, you can't go tearing off to St. Mungo's!" Sirius said sternly.

"'Course we can go to St. Mungo's if we want," Fred said with a mulish expression, "he's our dad!"

"And how are you going to explain how you knew Arthur was attacked before the hospital even let his wife know?"

"What does that matter?" George said hotly.

"It matters because we don't want to draw attention to the fact that Harry is having visions of things that are happening hundreds of miles away!" Sirius said angrily. "Have you any idea what the Ministry would make of that information?"

There was a moment of silence among them. Fred's arms were now at his sides, his hands in fists. Ginny said, "Somebody else could have told us! We could have heard it somewhere other than Harry."

"Like who?" said Sirius impatiently. "Listen, your dad's been hurt while on duty for the Order and the circumstances are fishy enough without his children knowing about it seconds after it happened, you could seriously damage the Order's —"

"We don't care about the dumb Order!" shouted Fred. It was rather unlike him to raise his voice like this.

"The Order is what kept us alive all summer. Don't forget about that. We shouldn't be meddling in Order business," I said, trying to speak sensibly. "We can't go acting rashly because something went wrong. You could give up the whole operation." Sirius gave me a grateful look, though his eyes were still full of anger when they rested back on the boys.

"It's our dad dying we're talking about!" George yelled, turning on me.

"Your father knew what he was getting into, and he won't thank you for messing things up for the Order!" said Sirius angrily in his turn. "This is how it is — this is why you're not in the Order — you don't understand — there are things worth dying for!"

"Easy for you to say, stuck here!" bellowed Fred. "I don't see you risking your neck!"

"Fred!" I shouted, raising my voice to match his. I grabbed at his elbow again, this time more firmly than before. Seeing how much Sirius had done for me in the past few months and how close we had become, I couldn't stand idly by while he was attacked, even if it was Fred. "You don't mean that!"

But he shrugged, "It's true though, isn't it?"

"It isn't Sirius's fault that he has to stay in hiding! Blame the stupid Ministry for not believing that he's innocent!"

"So the Order isn't worth risking it?" Fred shouted. His face had gone red to match his hair, his eyes locked on me.

I scoffed, "Fred, I know you're upset. So am I. I care about Arthur too. But that's no reason to-"

"No, that's not the same!" He cried, interrupting me. "You don't understand because you don't have a father!"

"ENOUGH!" Sirius shouted, stepping between us. Fred's words hit me like a ton of bricks, leaving me standing there looking dumbfounded and stupid. "I know it's hard, but we've all got to act as though we don't know anything yet. We've got to stay put, at least until we hear from your mother, all right?"

There was another moment of silence, Fred's glare turning from me and back to Sirius. George also looked mutinous, but his face was also filled with confusion as he looked between Fred and I. Ginny had moved towards the table and sunk into the nearest chair, looking exhausted. Harry and Ron followed her lead. "I'm going upstairs," I said plainly, turning on my heels and ripping my arm from Sirius's grasp.

"Ollie," I heard Fred call, but I couldn't bring myself to face him.

As I walked away, I heard Sirius mutter, "Leave her be."

Regulus Black's old bedroom at the top of the house looked exactly as I had left it: Slytherin green and covered in newspaper clippings. Seeing those clippings made me angry, even more angry than I already was. In my fit of rage, I stormed across to the wall and swept my arms across it, the articles falling to the floor. That felt good.

It didn't take long for Sirius to appear in the doorway looking worse for wear. "I see you've taken it upon yourself to do some redecorating," he said slyly, eyeing the pile of papers on the floor.

I turned to look at him, "I'm sorry. I just couldn't look at them anymore."

But his face broke into a weak smile, "I was wondering why you hadn't done that yet. Are you alright?"

My eyes dropped to the floor. "I'm okay." I said plainly.

"You know he didn't those things he said," Sirius sighed seriously, stepping further into the room.

I swallowed hard. "But he's right. I wouldn't understand it." I hardly recognized my own voice as it left me, hollow and void of feeling.

When I looked back up at him, he was shaking his head. "That's not true. I know this hurt you just as much as it does Fred. You simply have a more rational way of dealing with it."

"But I'm not Arthur's child."

"No," he said with the same grave tone, "but he's the closest thing you have to family, with the exception of Emmeline. I think he forgets that you too have lost a father."

A puff of air escaped my lips instinctively. "It's hard to lose something you never really had to begin with. Besides, I don't even remember him."

Sirius was silent, clearly not knowing what else to say.

"Emmeline," I said desperately, "when can I see her?"

His face grew even darker. "I'm not sure. That is up to the Order."

I nodded slightly, not wanting to question him even further.

Silence fell once again. "Come downstairs," he suggested finally, "have a butterbeer with us. Fred feels terrible." When I didn't respond, he took a step backwards toward the door. "Whenever you're ready." And he disappeared down the stairs.

For the fourth time that night, I was left completely alone. I glanced back at the papers on the floor and one of them caught my eye, the large headline clearly one from the front page of the _Daily Prophet._

 ** _MUGGLE FAMILY MURDERED_**

But that wasn't what drew my attention. In the center of the page was a photo of wild looking man with dark hair. I reached down and picked it up to examine it closer. The man's sharp features and cold eyes were oddly familiar. I recognized this man as my father, the photo likely taken long after the Quidditch team photo that sat on the mantlepiece. He hardly looked like the same person, but deep down, I knew that was him. I scanned down the article and, sure enough, his name stood out several paragraphs down.

 _In a brief statement on Tuesday night, Minister of Magic Harold Minchum confirms that these attacks are likely the work of known Dark wizard Kieran Riddle, son of Thomas Riddle — better known as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Riddle graduated from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry two years previous as a Prefect for Slytherin House and accomplished Keeper for the House Quidditch team. Riddle has been said to be loyally working for his father as a Death Eater since his graduation._

But that was not the most troublesome part of the article. Several lines down, I suddenly noticed my own name glaring up at me.

 _Kieran Riddle and wife Anastasia recently had a daughter by the name of Olivia Thomasina Riddle, according to Ministry records. In an exclusive interview with the Prophet, Lucius Malfoy, a school friend of Riddle's, spoke out. "He has always had a thing for power, as Quidditch captain and a school Prefect," Malfoy says, "but we never expected this from him." (cont. on pg. 4)_

I couldn't believe what I was reading. Not only had my father murdered an innocent muggle family of 5, but he had done it shortly after I was born. Seeing my full name printed out like that in the _Daily Prophet_ made me feel sick. And Draco's father had been a friend of my own father's?

 _Of course he had,_ I thought to myself, my mind drifting to the memory that Snape had shown me. The memory of myself sat on the floor of Malfoy Manor, baby Draco sitting opposite me. My mum had been friends with his, so naturally our fathers would be too.

I had to write Draco. I had to talk to someone about this, and clearly nobody in this house was much for talking at the moment. And Draco had to know about this. But I couldn't write him. Every letter that was sent to Hogwarts would be inspected by Umbridge, and I certainly didn't want her to find out. And I couldn't have his father find out that I was writing his son again. I could not bear the guilt of being the reason behind Draco's torment.

I looked back down at the pile of papers, wondering what more I could find about him. Kneeling down, I sifted through them. Most of the articles gave details of various other killings or Death Eater sightings, but there was another that stood out to me, this one boasting the title:

 ** _MINISTRY THANKS RIDDLE_**

Below this heading was yet another photo of my father, entirely different from the previous one. In this, he was wearing lavish dress robes with a wide smile spread across his face. At his side was a tall blonde woman whom I hardly recognized. Her face, however, I remembered from that same memory in Malfoy Manor. This must have been my mother. I scanned over this article as well, though there didn't seem to be any mention of me in it. This one must have been from long before I was born, for my mother didn't appear pregnant at the time. Another thing struck me about this one: it contradicted everything that I had ever heard about either of my parents. My father had donated a rather substantial amount of money to the Ministry of Magic, so much in fact that they held a large celebratory dinner to thank him.

I sank down into the armchair by the fireplace, looking down at both of the articles in my hand. They each painted a very different picture of the man behind my name.

I looked up at the photo on the mantle for the hundredth time since Sirius had pointed it out to me. After all that time, I didn't have to see it to know what it looked like, my father's smile burned into my mind, but I looked to remind myself that it was real and not something made up by my own imagination. This couldn't be the same man that murdered countless people and spent the last twelve years locked up in Azkaban. He looked normal and happy. In fact, he looked far happier than I had seen Draco in a long time. I felt my stomach drop at that realization.

I couldn't sit here any longer. I could not dwell on this all alone right now. After everything that I had withstood over the last several months, this was where it became too much. I strung to my feet and half-ran to the stairs. Though I was reluctant to return to the others, the silence and loneliness was suffocating me.

Fred's head shot up when I thew open the basement door. The others stirred slightly in their seats but barely acknowledged me. I stopped in my tracks at the sight of my boyfriend. He looked absolutely dreadful, his hair stuck up in every direction and his eyes puffy with exhaustion. A wave of grief washed over me, instantly making me sorry for shouting at him. His father was possibly dying. Despite whatever Sirius said, I knew that I did not truly understand how he was feeling and it crushed me to even imagine it.

"Ollie," he said hoarsely, a pained expression crossing his face.

I shook my head, stepping up to his side. With an arm loosely draped around his neck, I pulled him into me. "Shhh…" I whispered, "it's okay, Gorgeous, I've got you."

He rocked sideways in his chair, leaning his weight into my chest. I cradled his head in my arms, kissing the top of his head.

"Butterbeer?" Sirius asked, looking up at me. I could have sworn I saw him wink.

"Please," I sighed gratefully, planting myself in the chair beside Fred without letting go of him. With a flick of Sirius's wand, a bottle flew from the pantry and onto the table in front of me. I muttered my thanks and reached out to grab it, though hesitant to release my hold on Fred. "Heard anything yet?" I asked cautiously.

"Mum wrote. She said he's alive and she is headed for St. Mungos," George said flatly, his eyes not moving from the table.

I sighed. Clearly, they weren't much for conversation. This was understandable, though I wished is wasn't so as it would give me something else to think about. The next several hours passed slower than ever in silence, only speaking to check the time or offer words of reassurance. Fred dozed off while slumped down in his chair, his head still on my chest. George eventually did as well, covering his head with his arms and resting on the table. I could see Harry and Sirius passing glances occasionally, though neither one said a word. I sipped at my butterbeer, mostly out of boredom and anxiety. When I drained the bottle, Sirius was quick to replace it with a fresh one, and then another.

There was a sudden loud noise and Mrs. Weasley appeared in the doorway looking feeble. Fred sat bolt upright, instantly wide awake, as did the others around the table. "He's going to be all right," she said, her voice weak with tiredness. "He's sleeping. We can all go and see him later. Bill's sitting with him now, he's going to take the morning off work."

The whole group breathed a collective sigh of relief. Arthur was going to okay. Fred fell back in his own chair with his hands covering his face, a faint smile playing at his lips. "Breakfast!" Sirius said cheerfully, jumping to his feet. "Where's that accursed house-elf? Kreacher! KREACHER!"

But Kreacher did not answer the summons.

"Oh, forget it, then," he muttered, counting the people in front of him. "So it's breakfast for — let's see — eight . . . Bacon and eggs, I think, and some tea, and toast —"

"I'll help," I said, standing up and making my way towards the stove. My arm left arm was completely dead from where Fred's heavy head had rested on it, but I didn't mind. All that I cared about was the good news about Arthur. The Weasley children all took to hugging their mother in celebration while Harry, Sirius and I prepared the breakfast. When Molly was able to break away from the embraces, she approached Harry and Sirius to thank them, with me busying myself in flipping the sizzling bacon. "Go relax!" I said to Molly as she began to tie on an apron, "Enjoy your family!"

But she shook her head. "Oh, sweetheart," she smiled, "I am! You are as good as family! Especially now you and Fred are together." She squeezed my arm affectionately before reaching for the kettle. For some reason, that notion made my heart sink. If Fred and I ever broke up, Molly would be crushed. She had wanted this ever since we were small. I couldn't let her down.

The next few weeks carried out with the same sort of tone, the Weasleys remaining in rather high spirits with the relief of Arthur's health. We decorated 12 Gimmauld Place with an assortment of tacky Christmas things, Hermione even deciding to join us for the holidays.

On Christmas morning, I woke once again to the sound of Fred's gentle snores. I looked up at him where he was curled against me. We hadn't talked about our argument, simply carrying on as if nothing had happened. Actually, we hadn't done much private talking at all. In the spirit of finally being able to have some alone time, we celebrated by filling all of that time with more physical things.

Nox leapt onto the bed at the sound of my movement, giving me several sandpapery morning licks on the nose before proceeding to rouse Fred. "Merry Christmas," I whispered with a small laugh as he opened his eyes, clearly surprised to see a furry head looming over him.

"Merry Christmas," he chuckled, reaching up to scratch Nox's ears. I sat up to find two large sacks sitting at the foot of my bed. Instinctively, I reaching into mine to find the usual tin from Molly.

"Mince pie?" I asked as I pulled it open.

Fred smiled, "Please." I grabbed one and turned to hand it over, only to find him laying with his mouth open. With a another laugh, I fed it to him as not to disrupt Nox's morning pets. "fank 'ou," he mumbled with his mouth full. Together, we rifled through our Christmas sacks while snacking on homemade treats. From the bottom of my sack, I pulled out a small bottle with a tag tied around the top, which read _Love, Fred_. I glanced up at him, smiling. It was a bottle of perfume that I had been eyeing at a shop in Hogsmeade.

"Thank you, Gorgeous," I whispered before kissing him. I flashed my eyes at his sack, which was also nearly empty. "Your turn," I urged.

He reached into it and pulled out the small velvet box that I was hoping for. Gingerly, he pulled back the top, eyeing my carefully. "You didn't have to do this!" he beamed, staring down at the new watch. He kissed me too before putting it on.

"You like it?" I asked.

He smiled bigger. "I love it. And I love you."

My heart skipped a beat. I had never heard him say those words out loud to me. "I love you too," I whispered back.

The sound of a familiar voice pulled my attention from Fred. "Olivia, dear?"

" _Emmeline!_ " I squealed, springing from the bed. In a matter of seconds, I managed to chuck on the sweater that Molly had made me (blue to match Fred's, a large 'O' knitted on the front) and a pair of jeans, spritzing on a bit of the perfume just before dashing down the stairs. I ran so fast that my legs nearly flew out from underneath me as I flung myself into Emmeline's embrace.

"Oh, dear!" she gasped in surprise. "Happy Christmas!"

"Happy Christmas," I muttered into her shoulder, suddenly fighting a wave of tears. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see my beautiful girl, of course," she smiled as I released her from my grasp. "You smell lovely."

"Oh," I said bashfully, "thank you. Fred gave me the scent just this morning."

With a _POP!_ Fred materialized beside me. "That would be me," He said before greeting Emmeline. I could see Sirius standing several feet away, a bright look covering his face.

"Excellent to see you," He chimed, his eyes on Emmeline.

Her face seemed to light up slightly when she saw him, but she hid her face quickly by turning to hang her cloak. "And you, Sirius," she sang, "I can not thank you enough for keeping Olivia safe."

"My pleasure," he said with a grin before disappearing down into the basement kitchen. We all followed him down for Christmas lunch.

DRACO:

Talk of the attack on Arthur Weasley took over the school until the end of term. At first, I didn't think much of it, though that only lasted until I noticed that Olivia was absent from the Gryffindor table.

"Draco," Pansy cooed at my side as I stared blankly at Olivia's usual seat, "is everything alright?"

My heart clenched. "Yeah, fine," I muttered, forcing my eyes back onto my breakfast. That was obviously a lie. I had known what the Dark Lord had been planning: to break into the Ministry and steal some kind of valuable weapon. Somehow, the Order of the Phoenix must have found out about the plan or otherwise knew about something that needed to be protected. I felt a strange guilt as I glanced back across the Great Hall. I should have warned Olivia about this. If I had said something, she might still be here and one of the most important people in her life wouldn't be at St. Mungos.

Though I didn't know much about Olivia's relationship with Arthur, I could tell that they were close simply from the tight hugs they shared on Platform 9 3/4 and from seeing them together at the Quidditch World Cup two summers ago. I knew that she cared about him and I hated to imagine what she might be feeling right now. The only flaw in the rumors about Arthur was that nobody knew what kind of condition he was in, but it definitely sounded bad.

"C'mon," Pansy said, tugging at my sleeve, "We'd better go or we'll miss the train."

My stomach twisted into a tighter knot at this. Missing the train would definitely be favorable to spending the holidays back at home, but my parents — particularly my mother — would be upset about me missing Christmas. I glanced down at my bowl of porridge, which had barely been touched, and pushed back from the table. Together, our group went back to the Slytherin dormitory to collect our trunks. While I hastily shoved an armful of robes into my case (most unlike me as I had always been a bit neurotic about tidiness), I caught a glimpse of the Christmas gift that I had meant to send to Olivia: a large book titled _World's Greatest Chasers_ along with a set of tiny flying models of the Chasers from the Irish Quidditch team. It wasn't anything big or expensive, but when I saw them, I thought of her immediately and couldn't pass them up. I remembered watching her at the World Cup while her eyes darted back and forth along the pitch, mesmerized by the skill of the Irish Chasers. It was on that day that I began to feel a tug at my heart when I looked at her. Somehow, in the summer between her fourth and fifth years, she blossomed into a woman that captivated my attention. She had lost the small amount of childlike fat in her cheeks, sprouted a few inches, and her body was not hidden beneath the shapeless form of Hogwarts robes. Though I had been pulling for the opposite team, I found myself gaping at her rather than the excitement of the match. It was on that day that I really took notice of her. But now, her gifts remained underneath my bed collecting dust. I would give them to her eventually, just not now. We hadn't said more than a word to one another since she left me in the sitting in the hospital wing several weeks ago and I did not blame her. She was rather busy with her lessons and putting back the pieces of their broken Quidditch team.

"Malfoy," Blaise barked, waking me from my daydream, "Let's go." He was stood several feet away with his trunk in hand, looking cross.

"Yeah," I choked out, standing up from where I had unknowingly sat down on my bed. I gathered the last of my belongings and followed Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle down to the common room where Pansy was waiting with Daphne and Astoria Greengrass.

"Took you long enough," She said, sounding annoyed.

Blaise scoffed, "Malfoy was busy staring at the floor and looking ill."

Unsurprisingly, no one expressed any amount of concern, which I was thankful for. Instead of defending myself, I simply bent down and took Pansy's trunk from her and we began the walk down to Hogsmeade train station.

This train ride was rather uneventful without Potter and his gang to cause any trouble. This actually made me begin to wonder what my years at Hogwarts would have looked like without Potter there at all, but something dawned on me. Whether it was Harry Potter or not, my father would have found someone else to put me up against. Now, there may not have been any strange Voldemort business, but I would nevertheless be fighting to be better than someone.

When the train pulled up to the London platform, it was oddly more crowded than normal at Christmas. In the current state of affairs and after the events of last June, a lot of parents didn't believe that Hogwarts was safe anymore. My parents, whom I could see standing slightly away from the rest of the crowd, did not share this fear partially because they knew that Voldemort's plans did not include an attack at Hogwarts and if they did, he certainly would not lay a hand on Lucius's son.

As we disembarked from the train, I made sure to follow Pansy closely and carry her trunk all the way to her father, passing it off to him. "Have a happy Christmas," I said before pecking her on the lips, "I'll see you at the New Year."

I turned to face my parents. Luckily, they had been watching. Large smiles spread across their faces. "I'm so proud of you, Draco dear," my mother said as she hugged me. Those words shocked me. I could not remember the last time that either of my parents told me that they were proud of me.

"How was your term?" My father asked, grabbing me by the arm. As he did so, the platform spun wildly. I blinked and we were no longer in London, but stood in the sitting room of the family house.

"Term was good," I said vaguely, "Pansy Parkinson agreed to go out with me and the Ministry has finally begun to sort out Hogwarts." Those words stung me to say, but if I expressed any disagreement with Professor Umbridge's ways, my father would have my throat.

He raised an eyebrow, "Then why do I hear from Crabbe and Goyle that you are still showing interest in that damned Riddle girl?"

I swallowed hard. "Excuse me?" I said disdainfully, unable to contain my contempt.

"Is there a problem?"

"Have you been spying on me?" I spat angrily, my composure completely gone.

I heard my mother gasp somewhere behind me. "And what if I have?" Father growled. "Goyle informed his father that he saw you—" he tightened his jaw, as if saying the words out loud caused him pain, "—hugging in Hogsmeade. You promised me, boy, that you would not be hanging around with her anymore."

"I'm sorry, _Father,"_ I growled, "I can't help it."

"Of course you can help it. You are not an animal. Only animals can not _help it._ "

But that was exactly what I was. An animal. A monster. A tug in my stomach made that same nauseous feeling wash over me. I could not stand here in from of him any longer. I could not take this. In a moment of weakness, I turned on my heels and ran for the stairs, my face burning.

" _Lucius_!" I heard my mother yell before slamming my bedroom door behind me.

My room was silent aside from my heartbeat ringing in my ears. How had I allowed this to happen to myself? How had I let myself fall so deeply for a girl that was so utterly forbidden?

"Draco," I heard behind me. I jumped, not having realized that my mum had followed me.

"What is wrong with me?" I said lowly as I stared out the window, avoiding her eyes. "Why can I not keep myself from her?"

I heard her take a long deep breath. "You and Ms. Olivia have more history than you even realize," she said finally.

My heart dropped, "What do you mean?" I said as I turned to look at her in confusion.

"Your father had been best friends with Kieran Riddle since they were in school at Hogwarts. When you were both young and she was still with her parents, her mother would come over and you two would play together. I would watch her when both of them were out doing deeds for the Dark Lord with your father. You've known each other since you were born." Her face was dark and her voice strained. I blinked slowly, trying to process what she was saying. "We were all so close that our families made an agreement. You were betrothed to be married."


	16. sixteen

OLIVIA:

I glanced around the Great Hall nervously as I stepped through the large doors just days after we returned to Hogwarts. There was a strange low buzz of voices entirely different from the usual joviality. Instinctively, I looked to the staff table. Had Umbridge finally gone and sacked a professor? Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall were deep in conversation, both looking extremely grave. Professor Sprout had today's _Daily_ _Prophet_ propped against a bottle of ketchup and was reading the front page with such concentration that she was not noticing the gentle drip of egg yolk falling into her lap from her stationary spoon. Meanwhile, at the far end of the table, Professor Umbridge was tucking into a bowl of porridge. For once, her pouchy toad's eyes were not sweeping the Great Hall looking for misbehaving students. She scowled as she gulped down her food and every now and then she shot a malevolent glance up the table to where Dumbledore and McGonagall were talking so intently.

I took note of the professors that were absent from the table. Flitwick. Snape. Vector. Surely she wouldn't have sacked any of them. Trelawney was also missing, though this was normal as she rarely left her tower. There was one other rather substantial absence: Hagrid.

My heart dropped, my gaze flashing towards the gathering of my friends at the Gryffindor table. They too seemed to be speaking fervently over their breakfasts, heads ducked low. Clearly, they knew something that I didn't. I approached the table curiously.

When he heard my footsteps, George's head shot up to look at me briefly before ducking back down and whispering something to the others. Quickly, they sat up straight, Ron scrambling to hide whatever they had been discussing.

"What's going on?" I asked innocently as I sat down beside Fred. "All of the professors are acting strange."

Fred said nothing, shooting a glance at the rest of the group before reaching to hold my hand.

"N-nothing," Harry said, looking panicked.

"She deserves to know," Fred muttered lowly. His face looked strange. It took me a moment to realize that this was because his signature smirk was absent yet again.

Ron looked at Harry nervously. George gave Fred a sideways look before nodding. "We can't keep something like this a secret. It isn't fair."

Obediently, Ron reached down and pulled the _Daily Prophet_ from his bag. He looked reluctant to hand it over but did so anyway.

Ten black-and-white photographs filled the whole of the front page, eight showing wizards' faces and two of witches'. Some of the people in the photographs were silently jeering; others were tapping their fingers on the frame of their pictures, looking insolent. Each picture was captioned with a name and the crime for which the person had been sent to Azkaban. I reached forward and grabbed the paper.

Instantly, my eyes were drawn to the pair in the center. My mother and father. _Kieran and Anastasia Riddle, Convicted of various murders and assisting He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named_ read the legend below the photographs, just above them a large glaring headline.

 ** _MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN  
MINISTRY FEARS BLACK IS "RALLYING POINT"  
FOR OLD DEATH EATERS_**

I forced myself to pull my eyes away from the photos and glanced over the article.

 _The Ministry of Magic announced late last night that there has been a mass breakout from Azkaban._

 _Speaking to reporters in his private office, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, confirmed that ten high-security prisoners escaped in the early hours of yesterday evening, and that he has already informed the Muggle Prime Minister of the dangerous nature of these individuals._

 _"_ _We find ourselves, most unfortunately, in the same position we were two and a half years ago when the murderer Sirius Black escaped," said Fudge last night. "Nor do we think the two breakouts are unrelated. An escape of this magnitude suggests outside help, and we must remember that Black, as the first person ever to break out of Azkaban, would be ideally placed to help others follow in his footsteps. We think it likely that these individuals, who include Black's cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, have rallied around Black as their leader. We are, however, doing all we can to round up the criminals and beg the magical community to remain alert and cautious. On no account should any of these individuals be approached."_

I could feel my heart in my stomach the same way I had this time last year when my school photo and legal name were posted up in every common room. I felt Fred squeeze my hand but instead of squeezing back, I dropped it and covered my face with my hand in shock. My parents had escaped from Azkaban.

"Ollie, I…" Fred whispered, but his voice broke off. "I'm sorry. I don't know what to say."

I blinked hard. "It's okay. I don't know either." When I lifted my eyes from the paper, I felt my face grow hot. The other students at the table were all eyeing me and up at the staff table, so was Professor McGonagall. "This can't be happening," I muttered to myself before standing up.

"Ollie, wait," Fred pleaded. I met his eyes for the first time and all that I could see was worry. He wanted to say something. He wanted to make it better. But there wasn't anything that anyone could tell me to make this terrible crushing feeling go away.

"Liv, you haven't eaten anything," George said in concern.

The thought of eating right now made me feel even sicker. "I'm not hungry anymore," I said plainly before striding back out of the Great Hall and away from all of the stares. I didn't know where I was headed, as long as it was away from there. I glanced back over my shoulder to see that nobody had chased off after me. This was somewhat relieving, but I also halfway wished that someone had cared enough to comfort me. Back at Grimmauld Place, Sirius was always quick to come to my side after my handful of frustrated outbursts with words of support and sensibility. I very much would have liked to talk to Sirius right now because he of all people would be able to understand or empathize with my fears, not to mention the fact that the Ministry had somehow found a way to blame him for this breakout.

A sudden involuntary scream escaped my lips as a hand grabbed at my arm and tugged me into a deserted unused classroom. When I came to my senses, I found myself staring into a pair of wild grey eyes. "Draco, you scared me!" I said barely above a whisper.

"I'm sorry," he said passively, "but I really need to talk to you."

Of course he would want to talk to me about this. He grew up surrounded by Death Eaters and he probably thought that for once, he could help me. "Look, Draco, it's really sweet of you to care, but I would really rather not talk about this right now."

"My mother told me—" he faltered. "Wait. Talk about what? How do you know?"

I knit my eyebrows together in confusion. "The same way that the entire school knows. It's plastered on the front page of the _Prophet,"_ I said, shoving forth the morning edition that was still rolled in my hand.

His face went completely white, grabbing it reluctantly. When he gazed at the photographs on the front page, his jaw dropped. Perhaps this wasn't what he had dragged me in here to discuss. "Olivia," He gasped weakly, "I-I…"

"Don't know what to say?" I said mocking Fred's prior tone.

He nodded, looking back at me. This time, he didn't say anything at all but grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me into a tight hug. I melted into him, instantly feeling more relaxed. As his hand rubbed circles against my back, I took a deep breath. "So, what was it that you wanted to talk about?"

He loosened his grasp on me and took a step back. "I, uh…" his eyes darted away from my face. "I was talking to my mother about you."

I felt my heartbeat quicken again. "And?"

"She told me that when we were young, our parents put us in an arranged marriage," his voice was low and gentle, as if he were afraid that this would anger me.

I stepped away from him and sat down on one of the many desks in the abandoned classroom. "An arranged marriage? Wizarding families still do those?"

"They're common among pureblood families to maintain clean blood and status. That's why my parents got married."

I shook my head, "But, Draco, my family isn't pure. Voldemort's father was a muggle."

His face somehow fell even further. I could tell that this didn't make any more sense to him than it did to me. "My mother said that if the Dark Lord succeeds, it will be a greater honor to be in relation to him than to remain one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight." He reached into his bag and pulled out a large leather-bound book. "I did some snooping in my father's library and I found this." He handed the book over and I grabbed it delicately. Resting it in my lap, I began to flip through the pages. Most of them were completely empty, but the first section was filled with photographs of two small children: A girl with dark hair who was clearly older, and a tiny boy with skin so pale it matched his white-blonde hair. They were unmistakeable us. Several other mementos covered the pages as well including footprints and locks of hair. There was one page that bore no keepsakes but was dedicated solely to a formal certificate. The top read _Oath of Matrimony_ in large lettering and below that the line:

 _This is to Certify that  
Draco Lucius Malfoy and Olivia Thomasina Riddle  
are to be wed by  
the 31st day of December in the year 1998._

On the bottom, both of our fathers had signed in dark ink to certify the agreement.

"What does this mean," I said, but paused to choose my words carefully, "for us?"

Draco, who had begun to pace the length of the classroom while I flicked through the pages of the album, halted. "They made an Unbreakable Vow. If we don't get married, they'll both die." His voice was shaky with fear. "They could use this against you to bring you over to the dark side."

"Good riddance. Let them die," I growled. It was a rather harsh statement, but I didn't regret it.

His jaw flapped open, lost for words. "Olivia," he sighed deeply, "I can't do that to my father."

I put the book down on the desk beside me, not able to look at it any longer. I stared at him, puzzled. "Draco, he has been nothing but cruel and callous towards you. He deserves it."

"I can't do it," he said with a shake of his head, starting to pace again, "I know, it sounds crazy. But my parents are all that I have. He is terrible, but if I displease him, it will only get worse."

My head was once again foggy and swimming with questions. "Then why does he want you to stay away from me? Why was he angry that we had been writing each other?"

"He doesn't want you to change me or my values. He knows that you have adamantly against the Dark Lord's ideology and thinks that you will have too heavy of an influence on me. They want it to go the other way around. I am supposed to pull you to You-Know-Who's side. They want everything to happen on their terms." He stopped directly in front of me, eyes sunken with tiredness. "I can't let that happen. I can't let them use me against you."

A sharp " _Hem, hem!"_ pulled our attention away from each other. Draco wiped around, startled. Umbridge was stood in the doorway of the room, arms crossed. "Out of bounds during lessons?Don't you two have somewhere to be?"

"Ma'am, I—" Draco stumbled, but I cut him off.

"I could ask you the same thing," I huffed, knowing full well that she had a NEWT level class at this time because I had been in it previously.

She straightened stiffly, "Now, dear, that is no way to speak to your High Inquisitor. That will be two weeks of detention for you!"

"Two weeks?" I said, raising my voice.

"Two weeks," she stated firmly, "For being out of bounds, skipping your lesson, and for your uncalled for remarks." Draco glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, looking like he was going to say something but holding back. "And you Malfoy, dear, thank you for catching such a disobedient student! That will be 10 points to Slytherin."

I bit my lip, trying not to cause any more trouble by mentioning that I didn't have a lesson for this hour. It was quite unlike me to be so outright defiant, but I had gotten progressively braver over the last several months.

"Off you go! I will see you in my office at 8 o'clock this evening to serve your detentions." With that, I pushed off of the desk and nudged Draco out of my way, heading for the Gryffindor tower.

When I walked into the common room, Fred and George were sat at the table, clearly waiting for me. Seeing Fred caused a crushing fear to come over me. This arrangement made an already difficult situation even more complicated. Draco and I were supposed to marry, but we couldn't be in love. There had to be some way out of this. Of course I did love Draco, but I didn't want to marry him just because our fathers said it would be so. A sudden thought stirred in the back of my mind. Could there possibly be some sort of magic behind us being attracted to one another? Did we really love each other, or was it all because of this arrangement? If it was, it surely wasn't working the way that they had intended

"Are you okay?" Fred asked, standing up.

I shook my head in honest. "I just nailed myself with two weeks of detention with Umbridge for being out of bounds and talking back."

Both of their faces sunk. "That's insane!" George said. "You in detention? Unheard of." He was right. I had never been given detention in six years at Hogwarts. This was a bit of a miracle seeing as much time I spent with the top troublemakers in the whole school.

I looked between them nervously. I had to tell someone about the conversation that I had just had with Draco. I knew that telling my boyfriend that I was going to be forced to marry another man would crush him too, but I needed to be honest with him. But now was not the time nor the place. Besides, we still had three years before the deadline.

The rest of the day passed in a strange sort of fog. There was still an unusual buzz around the school and I was unable to shake the odd glances from Professor McGonagall throughout Transfiguration. I was grateful for her concern, but the way that she looked at me made me feel even more like a black sheep. "Ms Riddle," She whispered beside me as she stood over my desk while I attempted to duplicate the teacup that sat in front of me. I had several near perfect attempts, each with small flaws like a missing handle or a chip in the rim. My efforts had been substantially more successful than Katie's, who was sat next to me. She had managed to enlarge her cup to the size of a small cauldron, which I had to reduce back down for her. "I would like to speak with you after class if you've got a moment."

I raised my eyes from my desk to look up at her. "Yes, ma'am," I muttered nervously. In the second that my eyes were off of my teacup, it began to multiply uncontrollably, covering the desk in (seemingly flawless) replicas. I swore under my breath, which made both Katie and Professor McGonagall laugh.

"A bit strong, that one!" McGonagall smiled, swishing her wand to cease the reproductions. "I think I will keep these. They're quite good." She grabbed several teacups and made her way back to the front of the classroom, a smile still on her face.

That small interaction was enough to brighten my spirit for the remainder of the lesson, which I spent trying to help Katie. By the time that McGonagall called time, she had managed to produce an almost identical duplicate, though it was abnormally jiggly, as though it was made of jelly. "It's closer!" I said, trying to sound encouraging and stifle a laugh. There was something about a gelatinous teacup that I found incredibly amusing.

As everyone else filled out of the classroom, I busied myself in digging through my bag. "I'll see you in the Great Hall," I said to Katie as she left. Once the coast was clear, I made my way up to the desk at the front of the room. "What did you want to speak with me about, Professor?"

She looked up at me, the smile from before totally gone. "Sit, dear." I did. She pulled her wand from underneath her robes and tapped two of my many teacups that were now littered across her desk. They both filled with tea. "Milk or sugar?" she asked, offering a cup full of sugar cubes. I grabbed one and stirred a splash of milk into my tea. "I assume that you have seen the _Prophet_ today?"

I nodded, lifting the teacup to my lips. "Yes, ma'am."

She pursed her lips. "How did it make you feel?" She questioned.

"Scared," I sighed honestly, "The Order has been speaking of the possibility that Voldemort could come in search of me. Do you think they will want me?"

"Unfortunately, it seems that you will be in even more danger now than you were before," she said, peering over the tops of her glasses, though she quickly backtracked when she saw my face at the sound of that. "I don't mean to worry you, but it wouldn't do you any favors to lie and say that you are perfectly safe. Nonetheless, Hogwarts is one of the safest places for you to be, aside from Order headquarters. Our staff have all been informed of this danger and will be keeping an eye out for your own protection." I nodded, but I felt my jaw clench. I would have much rather this not be made into a big deal. "Professor Umbridge has informed me that she found you out of bounds during lessons and you had a bit of an attitude with her. Is this true?"

I looked down. "Yes, ma'am."

"Ms. Riddle, I would have expected better from you. You have always been such an obedient student. Though I surely expect you were rather upset at the time."

I hesitated, not sure how much of my explanation I was willing to share. If there was anyone that I could trust with my predicament, it would be Professor McGonagall. "Yes, but the _Prophet_ isn't the whole reason why."

"And what is?"

"Well," I began, "I was pulled into the classroom by Draco Malfoy. He said that he needed to talk to me." Her face contorted at the mention of the Slytherin boy, but she didn't say anything. I launched into the story about the marriage, telling her everything (with the exception of my romantic involvement with Draco). She waited patiently while I spoke, not interrupting me at all. When I finally finished, she took a long sip of tea.

"Are you very familiar with Mr. Malfoy?" she asked, "You attended the Ball with him last year, did you not?"

I swallowed hard. "Yes, ma'am. I've been drawn to him ever since," I muttered ashamedly. "We are friends of sorts."

She nodded for a long time. I looked down at my tea, which was surely cold by now. My stomach felt as though it was rising into my throat, suffocating me slowly. "Draco could use a friend like yourself. You have quite a bit in common," McGonagall noted. "As for the arrangement, there is only one way for an Unbreakable Vow to be nullified."

"What is it?" I asked desperately.

She shook her head, eyes looking sad. "One of the parties who made the Vow must die before the promise is fulfilled." My heart started racing. There was still a chance. We could still get out of this non-consensual engagement. Granted, I wouldn't particularly _mind_ marrying Draco, I just wasn't keen on doing it on our parents' terms or within the next three years. "So either way, someone has to die."

Putting it that way made it sound less promising, but anything was better than nothing. "Are arranged marriages really that common? I've never heard of them happening anymore."

She considered it for a moment. "Yes and no. They are often seen among the Sacred Twenty-Eight, with the exception of a few families such as the Weasleys or Longbottoms, though not as common as they used to be. A century or so ago, families would often rather arrange marriages with cousins than risk marrying into 'dirty' blood. As the pool of pure families got smaller, they were somewhat fazed out. This one is rather unique as Riddle isn't a traditional Wizarding family. It was, however, made when the Death Eaters were sure that You-Know-Who would rise to power, therefore establishing him as the highest possible power. His decedents would be some kind of royalty."

"Royalty is virtually the only way that the Malfoy family can rise in status. I guess it makes sense." I took a deep breath, trying to process all of this. It was a lot of information to understand at once, but it was necessary. "Thank you, Professor. I appreciate it."

"Anytime, dear. Now go get yourself some dinner before you have to serve your detention. And watch yourself with Dolores from now on. I don't need my best student to be getting herself into any more trouble. Certainly not any that would result in another Quidditch ban. Our team needs all the talent they can get."

I gave her a sheepish smile before I stood and left the class, shocked to hear her call me her best student. Though the news about the marriage wasn't the most encouraging, I felt a lot better having talked about it. I was still left to dread my detention, but I already knew what to expect from that; I had seen the scars on the back of Harry's hand. Despite having one of the worst days of my life, I was feeling strangely okay. After everything I had faced before this, I had confidence that would make it out alive.


	17. seventeen

**Hey y'all! Here's the next chapter. I wanted to give a little bit more insight into the Slytherin house in this one, so get ready for a bit of extra Draco! I hope you like it :)**

* * *

The next month passed alarmingly quickly. The N.E.W.T level homework load kept me busy enough to take my mind off of everything falling apart around me, though I didn't have the usual joy of Quidditch to lighten the mood. Our practices were equal parts physically and emotionally painful. Our new substitute Beaters were absolutely abysmal, landing every Chaser with a few bumps and bruises every evening, not to mention the fact that Ron couldn't block a single goal if anyone was watching.

"I don't get it," I said to Fred and George as we walked down to Hogsmeade on Valentines' Day, "Angelina says that she knows he has it in him, which he does, but it's not like we can ask the crowd to turn their backs and talk among themselves every time the Quaffle goes up his end!"

Fred laughed, a big smile on his face. For a while, we hadn't really talked about him being banned from the Quidditch team because I didn't want to make him feel left out or bother him with my sport related worries, but now he didn't seem to mind and actually found some amusement in our suffering. George on the other hand shrugged, "I still reckon Angelina should have made you Keeper and found a replacement Chaser."

I rolled my eyes. This was a genuine proposal that the team had made, though I refused to take the position as I simply could not bring myself to play the same position as my father did. "And I still reckon you two shouldn't have gone and gotten yourselves banned from the team," I retorted.

"That's not fair!" Fred said in a tone of mock offense. "Don't be mad at us! Blame that stupid Malfoy boy for being a git!"

George nodded his agreement. "I still don't know how you spent a whole night with him and actually _enjoyed it_."

"Love potion. It's the only explanation," Fred said insistently. I didn't say anything in response to such accusations because I could see a head of blonde hair several yards ahead.

"I just don't know if I can play the same without you two as Beaters," I said, desperate to bring the subject back to Quidditch.

George waved a dismissive hand, "You're going to have to get used to that anyway. We aren't going to be around to save your butt next year."

I nodded. I knew that was inevitably going to happen, but I wasn't prepared for it so prematurely. "Figures you two would get banned in your last year on the team." The idea of Hogwarts without the twins honestly terrified me, but I wouldn't let them know that.

"On the bright side," Fred chimed optimistically, "D.A. is going splendidly." He was certainly right about that. Everyone, even Zacharias Smith, had been spurred to work harder than ever by the news that ten more Death Eaters were now on the loose.

"And our Snackboxes are finally ready to roll!" George said enthusiastically.

And that brought an end to our non-Wizard-Wheezes related discussion for the time being. I amused myself by watching Draco converse with Blaise Zabini as they walked. Blaise appeared to be monopolizing the conversation, speaking animatedly with his hands gesticulating wildly. Draco walked with his hands deep in the pockets of his cloak, nodding as he listened. I briefly wondered where Pansy, but I was rather okay with her not being around.

When we walked onto the Hogsmeade High Street, my eyes were immediately drawn to a group of Hogsmeaders gathered around a shop window. Between the heads, I could see that they were all staring at a large poster of the ten pictures of the escaped Death Eaters. The poster ("By Order of the Ministry of Magic") offered a thousand-Galleon reward to any witch or wizard with information relating to the recapture of any of the convicts pictured. A few heads turned to look at me. Fred's arm over my shoulders steered be away down the street. "Zonko's?" He suggesting, glazing over the subject.

"Anywhere that will get my parents's faces out of my sight," I groaned, following them into the joke shop. The remainder of our trip to Hogsmeade was incredibly standard, spending most of the day combing the shelves of Zonko's for "inspiration", a quick stop at Honeyduke's for sweets, and ending it with a drink at the Three Broomsticks. I would be lying if I said that I wasn't slightly disappointed by Fred and I's lack of time alone on Valentines' Day, though I also wasn't surprised. In fact, our first time alone all day was when we got back to Hogwarts and George and Lee went up to the dormitory to drop off their purchases, leaving us to ourselves on the couch in the common room

"If they sell well enough, we can make Headless Hats into a whole-"

I cut Fred off with a firm kiss on his lips, leaning all of my weight into him. "Happy Valentine's Day, Gorgeous," I whispered.

"Happy Valentine's Day," He smiled, but that didn't last long. "But we can turn it into a whole line of clothes. Just think! Legless Trousers, Footless Trainers!"

I pursed my lips. I always knew that Fred had a bit of a one track mind, but I was started to get a bit annoyed. "Yeah," I muttered halfheartedly.

"What? Does it sound like too much?" He asked.

I shook my head. "I was just hoping I would get to spend my Valentine's day with you, not Weasley's Wizard Wheezes."

He looked confused. "I thought you liked working on the shop with us."

"I do," I said, lying slightly, "but I also like you. It would be nice if our lives didn't revolve around practical jokes for at least one day."

He appeared to have detected the undertone of frustration in my voice, blinking sharply in surprise. "I'm sorry, but we have a kinda tight deadline that we have to meet. If we aren't ready to open-"

I cut him off again. "You also have a girlfriend," I huffed angrily, sitting up away from him. I had said it a little louder than I had intended, catching the attention of other students in the common room. "Or have you forgotten that?"

He sat up too, "Of course I haven't forgotten. Ollie, where the hell is this coming from?"

"Where is it coming from?" I repeated, standing up. "Fred, this is how it's always been. You only ever pay me any attention when you want something from me."

"I'm sorry. I've been really busy with-"

"And when my parents escape from Azkaban, all you have to tell me is that you 'don't know what to say'. And don't think that I forgot what you said when we fought at Headquarters!" I was yelling now, unable to contain the frustration that I had been feeling any longer.

Fred's face changed to match mine, now filled with anger. "Surely you aren't still holding that against me! I thought that my father was dying. I had a right to be upset!"

"So did I! That doesn't change the thing that you said!" I shouted, not wanting to repeat the notion that I didn't have a father and didn't know what that love was like.

"You know that I didn't mean that!" He growled back.

I could feel my face growing hot. "Well you could have at least apologized instead of acting like it didn't happen. And, since you've taken to talking shit about Draco Malfoy, you should know that he has offered me far more support than you have!" The words had rolled off my tongue before I could stop them.

"Malfoy? You still talk to that guy?" He asked, his eyes now full of hurt.

I swallowed hard, "Yes. As a matter of fact, I do sometimes." I knew instantly that admitting to this was a big mistake.

"Are you fucking serious?" He too got to his feet. For some reason, the idea of me talking to Draco made him far more mad than anything else I had said. "After everything that he's done to the people who care about you? Everything that he's said about me and my family?"

I stared into Fred's wild eyes, suddenly not recognizing the person behind them. "You guys say plenty of bad things about him as well! Maybe not to his face, but that doesn't make it any better."

"Because he deserves it! He's a prick!"

"Is he? Because he's been treating me a hell of a lot better than you have!" I shouted. My eyes were burning as I stared at him as I started to realize what was happening. For the first time, I could feel the eyes of every single Gryffindor in the tower watching our relationship crumble. My hands were shaking as my blood boiled. Fred and I had never fought like this before. In all of the years that we had been friends, we never had as much as a strong disagreement. I wanted to go back to those days: the days of being best friends and not having to worry about maintaining a romantic relationship. But at this point, I didn't know if that was possible. "Fred, I'm done. I can't do this anymore."

His face fell, the anger now replaced with surprise and worry. "What do you mean?" He asked shakily.

"I can't be with you anymore. It's just to hard." The words stung as I said them. I could feel a tear escape my eye and trail down my cheek. I couldn't stand here and see the hurt on Fred's face any longer. I tore my eyes away from him and stormed across the common room to the portrait hole.

"Ollie!" I heard him call, but once again, I would not look back. I had to get out and away from the stares.

DRACO:

"I'm no expert," Blaise scoffed as he bit off the tip of his chocolate wand, "but it seems like the Ministry isn't putting up much of a fight to find those fugitives."

I nodded, looking down at my butterbeer. "They know it's no use," I said lowly, "If they're working with the Dark Lord, they'll be impossible to track down."

Zabini's eyes moved from the large poster on the wall and rested on me. "Draco, I know we joke about it all the time, but are you actually okay?" He asked suddenly.

I sat up straighter, surprised by the level of concern in his voice. Blaise and I had always been good friends and he was the one that I could always have more real conversations with, but I never expected him to be this perceptive. He had always been the quiet one out of the group, a silent observer. In his first couple years at Hogwarts, he had been a bit of an outcast in the Slytherin house as he was a bit of a recluse and didn't have many connections with other students, but I sort of took him under my wing during third year. It didn't surprise me that he noticed small things like this, but it did surprise me that he cared enough to ask. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why does everyone keep asking me that?"

"Because you look miserable all the time," he said plainly. "What does all of this mean for you? If You-Know-Who is back, then certainly your father will be at the center of it."

I glanced around the pub nervously, but thankfully nobody seemed to have heard. "Blaise, not here!" I growled, ducking my head back towards the table.

He seemed to get the message, quickly turning the subject on something else. "What about her?" He asked, jerking his head to the side to indicate towards the table where Olivia was sat with those Weasley boys, which I had been trying hard to ignore. "You still like her, don't you?"

"Why? What's it to you?" I spat, attempting to hide my blushing face by sipping at my drink.

He shrugged, "I see the way that you've been looking at her ever since last year. You're a terrible liar, Malfoy."

I suppressed a laugh — if only he knew how much I was hiding. "I feel bad for her," I lied, "She has to spend that much time with Weasels. It's rather unfortunate, really."

He chuckled and rolled his eyes, "Sure. That's it." I let out a little laugh too at how poor that attempt was. "For real though, it's okay. She's pretty, I guess, not to mention talented."

"Yeah. She is pretty," I muttered.

To my surprise, Blaise didn't have a snide response. "I know how it feels — to love someone that you shouldn't."

I raised an eyebrow in his direction. "And who might that be?"

"Don't play that game with me. We're talking about you, Draco," he said with a shake of his head.

I really didn't know what I would do without having a friend like Blaise. He didn't have ties to the Dark side like most of my "friends" did, which was refreshing and made for quality conversation that didn't revolve around Voldemort. Crabbe and Goyle were handy to have around when I needed some extra muscle, but they had proven themselves to be far too simple to provide any intellectual conversation about anything apart from food and Pansy and the rest of the girls indulged in far too much gossip for my liking. Despite his vanity, he seemed genuine and kind at heart, which was incredibly refreshing. "That doesn't seem very fair," I hissed jokingly.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Olivia's group shuffling their way to the door. I was suddenly aware that the pub was beginning to empty as we sat and talked, students trickling out and making their way back to the school. "Wow," Zabini sighed, "you have got it bad, watching her leave like that."

"Oh, piss off. Do you want me to hex you?" I scoffed, reaching for my wand in the pocket of my cloak that hung on the back of my chair. "I think some boils could compliment your eyes nicely."

His hand shot up to his face to assure that nothing had appeared that didn't belong there.

I snorted involuntarily. "Relax, princess. I didn't even say the incantation." Blaise was all about his good looks and I knew this very well. After living in the same dorm room since we were eleven, there were very few things that we had yet to learn about one another. "Are you ready to go?" I asked, trying to bring the subject away from Olivia.

He tipped back the last of his butterbeer and slammed it back on the table. "Let's get out of here," he huffed, pushing his chair back and standing up.

"Can we stop at the apothecary on the way back? I need to pick up some ingredients for potions," I asked as we stepped out of the Three Broomsticks and onto the High Street.

"Sure. I need some lionfish spines anyway."

We didn't return to our serious conversation topics until we were making our way back to the castle. "Though your infatuation is endearing, need I remind you that you are currently in a relationship with Pansy Parkinson?" Blaise mentioned when he saw me glancing ahead as a small scarlet figure flying high above the Quidditch pitch.

"No," I groaned, "please don't remind me."

He laughed. "Then why are you dating her?"

"My parents," I said simply. With that, he didn't press any further. Blaise understood that I didn't have the best or healthiest relationship with my parents, though he wasn't aware of the full extent. I often complained to him about the pressure that they put on me, but I never spoke to him about the curses that my father would use on me or my reluctance to follow in my father's Death Eater shaped footsteps.

"Speaking of which," he said, thankfully skimming over the topic, "where is Pansy?"

I shrugged, "Fuck if I know. She wanted to go to some tea shop for Valentine's, but I told her I would rather snog Longbottom than be seen in that place. Upset her for some reason."

Zabini shot me a sideways glance but laughed. We walked the next several yards in comfortable silence as I kept my eyes on the figure in the sky. I knew who it was simply from the elegant way that she flew, nimble and full of grace. "Mind if I—?" I asked hesitantly.

"Go on," he nodded, "I'll take your things up."

I gave him a grateful smile and jogged off down the hill towards the pitch.

Olivia flew lap after lap around the pitch, her eyes scanning the sky around her. She didn't notice my presence, clearly too focused on her pursuits. I was rather okay with that though, enjoying the opportunity to watch her do what she loved most. I sat down in the grass, instantly relaxing. I didn't know how long I sat there for, but it didn't matter.

Suddenly, Olivia darted across the pitch aiming directly for one of the goal posts. That was when I saw it shining in the cold February sunlight: a golden snitch. I was almost certain that she was going to fly straight into the goal post, but at the last second, she pulled up and leaned to the left, her fist closing tightly around the small flying ball.

I clapped slowly, my applause echoing into the stands surrounding me. For the first time, she looked down at me. "I didn't realize you were a Seeker too," I called.

She sank down to my level and dismounted. "I am many things that you don't realize, Malfoy," she countered as she wiped her watery eyes. At first, I dismissed the tears as a result of the wind, but a slight hitch in her voice made me reconsider.

"What's wrong?" I asked as I got to my feet, knowing that it would be no use to ask if she was okay: she would deny it as always.

Her lips pursed tightly closed as she blinked hard. She seemed reluctant to answer, hesitating slightly before sighing deeply. "I think Fred and I just broke up."

That was not the response that I had expected. "You think?" I asked.

"We had a row in the common room. Everyone saw," she said with her head low, staring at the ground. The shakiness in her voice made it seem as though she was more upset about everyone seeing than she was about the argument itself.

I reached out and placed a supportive hand on her shoulder, despite the sudden rush of excitement that flooded my insides. She was single. Maybe I still had a chance. "I'm sorry," I muttered, "that sucks."

She shrugged, "It's okay, really. Maybe we're just meant to be best friends. I preferred that anyway." I could tell that she didn't mean that. I had seen the way that she looked at him with those big dark eyes full of longing and the way that she kissed him so passionately. Internally, I wondered whether she would ever look at me that way or kiss me with the same fervor.

She relaxed into my touch yet again as I enveloped her in an embrace. Her head fell against me chest, my hand gently running along her hair. "What if he doesn't want to be friends anymore?" She asked, her voice full of desperation. For the first time, she let out a heavy sob.

"Of course he will. He loves you," I whispered against her cheek. "Besides, who wouldn't want to be friends with you? You're smart, you're talented, and you care about your friends more than anything. I'd give anything to have a friend like you."

She stiffened, leaning back away from me. "Draco, we _are_ friends," she said, looking confused.

I smiled a little at that idea, but I knew that the friendship that I had with her would never compare to what she'd had with Fred Weasley. They had been best friends since they were so young. But then again, I reminded myself, so were we. Granted, she didn't remember the days of toddling about it the front garden together. Now, though, we were more like almost lovers.

My face was only inches from hers. I fought back the urge to lean down and kiss her lips, knowing that now was not the time. She was conflicted and upset enough without my affections fogging her mind.

Her arms fell from around me, crossing over her chest. "What's that?" I asked without thinking, staring at the back of her left hand. Several bright red marks poked out from beneath her sleeve, capturing my attention. I reached out and pushed the sleeve back to reveal the etching in its entirety, tilting my head to read what it said. There were several words scratched deep into her flesh. _I must respect my superiors._

"Umbridge," She muttered, "her detentions are a bit… unconventional."

A lump formed deep in my throat. I was the reason that she had received those detentions and I got away without as much as a telling off. "That's my fault," I choked out.

But Olivia shook her head, "I was the one who decided to have a smart mouth with her. I was asking for it."

"I should have stood up for you," I said, turning away from her. The guilt made looking at her painful. Yet again, my own actions led to her getting hurt, though this time it was physical.

She was quick to change the subject. "Please don't be mad," she said carefully, "but I talked to Professor McGonagall about this engagement thing."

I whipped back around, "You did?" I gasped slightly, curious.

She nodded, "She said that the only way to undo the Vow is for one of the parties to die." Her voice was shaky as if she were afraid of how I would react, but I didn't say anything. I was at a loss for words. No, I wasn't angry at her for going to McGonagall. I was simply unenthused about returning to the topic. With a sigh, I sank back down onto the grass in defeat. There was no way out of this without death.

Olivia sat down next to me looking equally shattered. "It's not so bad," I said, trying to sound optimistic, "I'd like to think I would be a decent husband."

She laughed, "What makes you say that?"

I hesitated, honestly not having an answer. "I'm alright at the piano?" I joked.

To my surprise, she stopped laughing and her face brightened even more. "You can play the piano? So can I!"

This was new to me. "Do you?"

"Emmeline taught me. She's always said that music is even more powerful than magic. I'm not great, but it's passable," she shrugged. I smiled. This detail was rather minor, but it was one of my favorite things that I had learned about Olivia. In my mind, I immediately pictured her sat at a piano with a small girl of her own, passing on the musical gift that she had been given. "I guess if we're going to get married, we should probably discuss what we would like in the future. Do you want to have children?" She asked, smiling up at the sky.

I hadn't thought much about having my own children because I had honestly never imagined someone wanting to have my children, but I immediately knew the answer. "A small army."

She threw her head back with a genuine laugh. "Really?"

"Yes," I said with an ardent nod, "I'd like at least a whole Quidditch team's worth. Growing up as an only child is lonely."

This launched us into a whole afternoon's worth of conversation, more than we had spoken all year. We jumped from subject to subject with a strange urgency, as if we would never have any other opportunity to talk again. Most of it revolved around that outlandish idea of us being married, from who would cook (Olivia knew how, Mrs. Weasley had taught her) to what Houses our children would be in (we landed on a healthy mixture) to where we would live (this was left unanswered, though we would need enough room for our own pitch of course). By the time the sun began to sink into the horizon, we had built a whole imaginary life for ourselves. There was just one flaw: it was imaginary. In the world we had created, there were no Dark Marks and Death Eaters, and there was certainly no Voldemort.

"Let's do it then," I said, only halfway joking, "Let's flee the country, get married, and have babies. I wouldn't have to study for my O.W.L.s and you wouldn't have to worry about Weasley anymore."

That seemed to force Olivia back into reality. She sighed, "what am I going to do about that?"

I shrugged, "Same thing I've done with Pansy? Ignore his presence and hope he just disappears?"

"And how has that worked out for you?"

I opened my mouth intending to defend myself, but I couldn't even pretend. "Quite terribly. She seems to become more obsessed with me that longer I avoid her," I chuckled lightly. "Speaking of which, we should probably get back to the school. If I'm not at dinner, she'll send a whole search party."

With that, we went our separate ways, me heading to the Great Hall and Olivia to the Gryffindor changing room to put away her broom and get out of her Quidditch robes. My usual spot at the Slytherin table had been left empty, waiting for me to return. I threw myself down next to Pansy begrudgingly, Blaise eyeing me questioningly from across the table.

"Can I help you?" I asked, forcing myself back into character while plating myself a helping of Shepherd's Pie.

"Actually," Blaise said confidently, "you can help me prove to Daphne that I am in fact the most attractive guy at Hogwarts."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh please," I teased, "Zabini doesn't even know what an attractive guy looks like, seeing as his mother makes such poor choices in them."

The table hooted with laughter until Theo decided to chime in, "You're one to talk, ferret boy. Have you seen your father? I wouldn't quite call him a stud." The laughter grew louder yet.

I shrugged ambivalently. "Oh fuck off, Nott," I scoffed as my eyes turned onto him, "at least my mother chose a rich Death Eater to shag."

These types of joking jeers were standard for the Slytherin table, all of us incredibly aware of how fucked up our families were. If anyone outside of this circle had spoken like this, every wand would be drawn against them. But here, beneath the large green banner overhead, there were no boundaries, no lines to be toed. Such banter was second nature to us. No matter the circumstance, we could always be found here laughing in the face of darkness.

"Are we seriously arguing over who's father has the most sex appeal?" Pansy huffed at my side.

On my other side, Goyle grunted. "That's no fair. Zabini has so many to chose from."

I laughed harder than ever, my eyes turning back to Blaise. Because of his quiet and sensitive nature, he had always had a slightly softer skin than the rest of us, but luckily he too found humor in this discussion. "I'll have my mum owl your a few tips on dealing with men, then," he said coolly as the group around him cackled.

My eyes now gazed beyond Blaise towards the Gryffindor table. The faces sat beneath the crimson told an entirely different story. They all appeared to be conversing in hushed tones as if they were in mourning. Among them, several key students were missing. For starters, there wasn't a single head of offensively bright red hair to be seen. Olivia was absent as well, along with the Quidditch team captain (Angelina, was it?). It felt strange to watch them, as if I was looking in on something incredibly private. I tore my eyes away, not wanting to intrude.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! Don't forget to leave a little review. Tell me what your predictions!** **Are Olivia and Fred really over?** **Who is Blaise's secret love? Do you like Blaise and Draco's friendship?**


	18. eighteen

OLIVIA:

The week did not improve as it progressed. In fact, the whole remainder of the month somehow got far worse as each day went on. I spent most of my time skillfully avoiding the Weasley boys, which was rather difficult between mealtimes, the common room and our weekly D.A. meetings. Though D.A. had been going incredibly well since term resumed, as Wednesdays grew closer I found myself dreading them. Being locked in the Room of Requirement with my ex-boyfriend for an hour every week while attempting to teach magic wasn't exactly my idea of a fun time.

As per Harry's promise, we had started to work on Patronuses, which unfortunately only led to more attention aimed in my direction. "Olivia," Harry said pointedly, "would you like to demonstrate yours?"

I took a deep nervous breath. It had been several months since I had last produced a Patronus, and I was fairly certain that my previous happy memory would no longer have the same effect. Nevertheless, I raised my wand, forcing my mind back to an occasion only a few weeks prior. Draco's face filled my mind, smiling as he joked about the "small army" of children we would have in our peaceful alternate universe. " _Expecto Patronum!_ " I shouted assertively, the silver vapor once again rising from the tip of my wand. I watched it in concentration as if formed into the large bird and began swooping around the room.

Ohs and ahs echoed around me. "It's beautiful," I heard Cho Chang whisper, as if speaking too loudly would scare the bird away.

"They're not supposed to be pretty, they're supposed to protect you," said Harry patiently. "What we really need is a boggart or something; that's how I learned, I had to conjure a Patronus while the boggart was pretending to be a dementor."

I nodded, lowering my wand. "I've never had to produce one in the presence of a dementor. That's where the real challenge lies."

"Exactly," Harry said, "producing a Patronus in the middle of a brightly lit classroom while under no threat is very different to producing it when confronted by something like a dementor. But it still takes practice. So, go ahead and spread out and get started whenever you're ready."

The group dispersed, leaving myself and Harry standing at the front of the room to assess their attempts. "Think of your happiest memory," I instructed, "something powerful. Concentrate on that, and only that."

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Fred still staring at me. I had been catching him giving me those same looks since our fight anytime we were in the common room at the same time or during our meetings. Once, just before our match against Hufflepuff, he and George even went out to watch the Quidditch team practice under the guise of wanting to see Ron and Ginny play. That practice was disastrous. Ron was unable to block a single score, our new beaters were atrocious, and the stare that Fred was giving me rendered me useless and unable to focus. My performance earned me a stern talking to from Angelina, who insisted that we work out "whatever the hell" was going on between us for the sake of the upcoming match (which we lost miserably). It wasn't exactly a look of anger or disdain, but more full of concern. I hated seeing Fred like this, not because I was upset with him, but because he was so unlike himself. He was deflated and unenthusiastic about everything, which really brought down the morale for the whole Gryffindor tower.

I turned away from the honey-brown eyes and returned my attention to the group of students closest to me: Ginny, Michael Corner, and (unfortunately) Zacharias Smith. Of the three of them, Ginny was having the best luck, with her attempts becoming less shapeless as she persisted. Michael wasn't far behind her, though he seemed more interested in watching his girlfriend than trying for himself. To my somewhat-selfish pleasure, Zacharias was only managing a few streaks of silver vapor.

"Keep trying," I encouraged, thinking back to the day that I spent on the landing at Grimmauld Place with Remus and Sirius. I remembered how hard it was, but also how frustrated my initial inability made me.

Neville, who was standing just a few feet away with Seamus and Dean, was having trouble too. His face was screwed up in concentration, but only feeble wisps of silver smoke issued from his wand tip. "You've got to think of something happy," Harry reminded him.

"I'm trying," said Neville miserably, who was trying so hard his round face was actually shining with sweat.

"Don't get discouraged," I said comfortingly, "a Patronus is an incredibly difficult form of magic. You aren't meant to get it perfect on the first try." It took me a moment to realize that Sirius had uttered these exact words to me what felt like forever ago. This wasn't the first time that I noticed myself sounding like him during our meetings.

I briefly flashed my eyes towards the twins to see a pair of ginger colored foxes bounding around playfully. I allowed myself to wander over. "Excellent job, boys," I said without thinking, "they're wonderful."

A look of surprise wiped across both of their faces. George glanced at Fred, who's face broke into a smile without looking away from his patronus. "I reckon mine's cuter," he joked, "what'd you think, Ollie?"

I stifled an unexpected laugh. "I reckon they're identical," I quipped back.

A loud bang echoed through the room, everyone instantly abandoning their magical pursuits to see what had happened. At the opposite end of the room, Dobby the House-Elf could be seen bashing his head into the wall, Harry reaching down and seizing him by the arm. "What's happened, Dobby?" Harry asked, holding him away from anything with which he might seek to hurt himself.

"Harry Potter . . . she . . . she . . ."

Dobby hit himself hard on the nose with his free fist: Harry seized that too.

"Who's 'she,' Dobby?"

I immediately knew who the poor house elf was referring to. There was only one woman in this whole school that could insight so much fear in Dobby. "Umbridge?" I asked nervously.

Dobby nodded, then tried to bang his head off Harry's knees; Harry held him at bay.

"What about her? Dobby — she hasn't found out about this — about us — about the D.A.?" Dobby didn't have to answer. The abounding tension in the room was answer enough. "Is she coming?" Harry asked quietly, glancing in my direction.

Dobby let out a howl, and began beating his bare feet hard on the floor. "Yes, Harry Potter, yes!"

Complete silence fell over the group. Fear filled my entire being, rooting me in my place.

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?" Harry bellowed. "RUN!"

And run we did. Simultaneously, every person in the room bolted for the door and into the seemingly deserted hallways, scattering. I knew that there was no time to make it all the way back to the Gryffindor Tower, which unfortunately seemed to be where every other Gryffindor was trying to go. I had to break away from them.

"I'll see you in the common room!" I said to the red-haired boys next to me as I rounded a corner in an opposite direction. I didn't make it far before a hand pulled harshly at my shirtsleeve. I pinched my eyes closed, expecting to be hit with a curse.

"I've got you, Riddle," a familiar voice whispered as I felt my back press against the wall.

I opened my eyes to find a pair of grey ones only inches away from mine. His hand still firmly grasped my arm as if I would attempt to wrangle myself free from where he had us hidden behind a pillar. "Draco, I—"

He raised a single finger to his lips. "Hey, Professor — PROFESSOR! I've got one!" Someone called out down the corridor.

"It's him!" I heard Umbridge's voice echo jubilantly. "Excellent, Gregory, excellent, oh, very good — fifty points to Slytherin! I'll take him from here. . . . Stand up, Potter!"

My heartbeat quickened beneath my shirt. Harry had been caught. "Don't move," Draco whispered, his face so close to mine that his lips brushed against my cheek.

"Draco, what are you doing?" I asked cautiously.

He let out a sharp exhale that tickled my ear, "Protecting you. That's what husbands are supposed to do, right?"

I had to suppress a smile by relaxing into the crook of his neck. The usual woody and fresh scent of his cologne was enough to calm my anxiety slightly as I listened to what was happening only a few feet away. "Tell the others to look in the library — anybody out of breath — check the bathrooms, Miss Parkinson can do the girls' ones — off you go — and you," Umbridge ordered in her softest, most dangerous voice, as the sound of footsteps surrounded us, "You can come with me to the headmaster's office, Potter."

In one swift movement, Draco shrugged off his robe. "Here," he whispered, holding it up in the incredibly small space between us, "put this on. They'll think you're one of us."

He really was more clever than Potter gave him credit for. I took it gratefully and pulled it on over the shirt and skirt that I was wearing. "Have I ever told you you're a genius?"

He chuckled silently, "no, I don't think you have."

"Well, you're a genius," I huffed.

In the low torchlight of the corridor, I could see his white teeth emerge from beneath his thin lips. "I want you to promise me that you'll go straight to the Gryffindor tower, okay? I can't have you getting into any more trouble because of me."

"I promise," I whispered, leaning forward and planting a soft kiss of gratitude on his cheek before turning away and leaving him there, ducked behind the column.

Wearing Draco's Slytherin robe filled me with a foreign confidence. In Umbridge's Hogwarts, the emerald green made me feel damn need invincible. _Is this how he always feels?_ I thought to myself as I ran up the stairs towards the tower.

"They got him," I announced breathlessly to the waiting faces in the common room, "they got Harry."

Several gasps rang out among the group. "Is he alright?" Hermione asked urgently.

I shrugged, still panting. "Umbridge took him to Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore wouldn't do anything to him."

"Why are you wearing Slytherin robes?" Fred asked suddenly.

I looked down at myself for the first time. The robes were far too long for my small frame as Draco over half a foot taller than I was. "They're -"

"Malfoy's?"

My breath caught in my throat as our eyes locked. Immediately, I could see what he was thinking. "He gave them to me so I could escape. Would you rather he let me get captured by Umbridge?" He didn't say anything. "That's what I thought."

"What exactly did Umbridge say?" Ginny asked, ignoring Fred.

I stepped further into the room and threw myself down in an armchair by the fire. "Not much. Mostly just celebrating and congratulating Goyle. Gave fifty points to Slytherin."

"You saw in happen?" Angelina pressed.

I shook my head. "I was hiding down the corridor," I answered plainly, not wanting to mention Draco, "I heard it though."

The whole common room was charged with an anxious energy, everyone glancing around nervously. Eventually, they followed my lead and got comfortable, waiting to hear what would happen to Harry. "He'll be okay," I heard George whisper to Ginny as she sank onto the couch, "It's Dumbledore after all."

An hour ticked by in near silence. This scene reminded me intensely of that night at Grimmauld Place as we all sat around the table in the basement waiting to hear something about Arthur. This time, however, felt even more lonely as I didn't have Fred's crumpled being to cling onto for comfort. Instead, I pulled Draco's robe tight around me and tucked my knees to my chest. I was vaguely aware that the students around me were slowly trickling up to bed, but I couldn't bear to move. Fred and I's breakup was incredibly isolating for me. Those boys were the only close friends that I had at school and not having them left me spending the majority of my time alone. Even now, in a room filled with people, I found myself longing for some type of closeness. All that I had was Draco's scent that lingered in the fabric of his robe.

A firm hand on my shoulder coaxed my eyes open. To my surprise, Fred Weasley was crouched beside my chair in the otherwise empty common room. "Hey, Ollie," he whispered, "it's late. You should get yourself up to bed."

I rubbed my eye with the back of my hand, "did I fall asleep?" He nodded. "Did Harry come back?"

"Not yet," he whispered, standing up. I watched him turn away to gather his things without another word, busying himself in arranging the Skiving Snackboxes that were stacked on the table in the corner. I stood up and made my way towards the girls' staircase, but as I reached it, I heard his voice again. "Ollie?"

"Fred?"

He looked up at me. "I'm sorry."

Hearing those words out loud made my stomach do a backflip. Slowly, I turned around to look at him. "Sorry for what?"

His eyebrows knit together. "I'm sorry that I treated you like shit. I'm sorry that I couldn't be the boyfriend that you needed me to be. I'm sorry that it ended the way that it did." His voice was shaky and full of pain. I had been waiting to talk to him for so long and now that we were, I didn't know what to say. When I didn't respond, he kept pressing. "I've been talking to Angelina and she helped me realize I wasn't the best boyfriend to you. I'm just really sorry."

"Fred," I sighed, "this isn't your fault."

He started towards me slowly. "Yes, it is. I didn't treat you the way that you deserve to be treated. You've been nothing but supportive to me and all I did was brush you off. I honestly can't believe that you stayed with me for that long."

"You were busy building a future for yourself. I was being selfish," I said quietly.

He shook his head. "But that's not all of it. I've been thinking a lot about what I said to you during that fight in December. I'm disgusted with myself."

"Fred," I repeated more assertively, "I know that you didn't mean to hurt me. All of this—" I gestured between the two of us "— is because of me. I just don't think I can be in a relationship right now. Any relationship."

He was nodding but his eyes seemed far away. "You've been through so much recently. I should have been there for you."

"This isn't something that you could have made better. I just need some time to myself." Saying those words felt like a large weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Coincidentally, I too had been talking to Angelina a lot after the break up and she helped my understand that my current emotional state wasn't exactly one best suited for a long term or serious relationship. And besides, if we weren't able to nullify the arrangement, I was going to have to marry Draco regardless (I didn't tell Angelina this part).

Standing only a foot or so away from me, he look down at his hands. "If there's anything that I can do to fix this or make it easier, let me know. You are my best friend after all."

A smile broke onto my face. Without a second thought, I launched myself forward and hugged him. Those were the words that I needed to hear. His arms wrapped around me tightly with a stiff laugh. "You're the best best friend," I whispered as I let go.

"I try," he smiled.

"Thank you," I said as I turned to make my way up the stairs.

But when I was just a few steps up, I heard his voice again. "And if you ever change your mind, let me know."

I pursed my lips, not knowing what to say, before continuing up the stairs.

The dorm was dark and quiet, all of the other girls fast asleep in bed. As I approached my bed, I pulled off Draco's robe and hung it on one of the bedposts. I would have to return it to him at some point, but for the time being I found it incredibly comforting to have.

I changed into my pajamas before crawling into my bed where I would lay awake for seemingly forever. My mind, as usual, was overwhelmed with thoughts. Typically though, they were focused on a single thing. Tonight, they ranged from Draco to Fred to my parents to the future of D.A.

I couldn't deny it. I still had feelings for Draco. I didn't want to, but I couldn't help it. He had been there for me whenever I needed it the most. His smile, though rare, was infectious. There was so much light inside of him, it was only a matter of tearing down the walls built of darkness and pride. But we couldn't be together. His parents wouldn't have it unless it was their idea. And my friends would disown me no doubt. The little bit that they knew of our friendship had already warranted plenty of disapproving looks and snide remarks. I didn't need to see how they would react if they knew that we were even remotely involved in a romantic way. I couldn't do that to Fred either. I had seen it in his eyes that he already thought that I was seeing Draco. He thought that I had left him to be with Draco. It was much more complicated than that.

I felt so bad for what I had done to Fred. All that he wanted was to make me happy, which he usually did. But the more and more that I thought about it, I realized that I was only using him as a distraction, both from Draco and everything else going on around me. He deserved so much more than that. It wasn't fair to him to keep dragging him along when my heart and mind were somewhere else.

I tried hard not to dwell on the idea of my parents being somewhere out there searching for me or perhaps devising a plan to get to me. I had never felt particularly unsafe at Hogwarts, but this year was a different story. Between my parents' escape, Professor Umbridge, and the knowledge that Voldemort had returned, I was fearing for my life.

That thought of Umbridge caused a renewed rush of anger to run through me. The sound of her scolds to Harry repeated in my mind and I now feared for not only my life, but his as well. And if he were in trouble, surely we would all get our turn. Yes, I had told the others not to worry because he was going to Dumbledore, but something inside me knew that this was bigger than the Headmaster.

I rolled over in my bed and closed my eyes, hoping to shut out those thoughts. With a deep calming breath, I sunk into sleep.

DRACO:

"Draco, weren't you wearing a robe earlier?" Blaise asked as we walked back down to the dungeons.

Instinctively, I shot him a glare. Sure, I would be fine telling him about what I did for Olivia, but not with the others around. "I left it in the dorm. Thought it'd be easier to run without it," I lied. I knew that he would see right through that, but hopefully no one else would.

Pansy didn't seem to think anything of it, pulling herself close around my torso. I let my arm fall around her loosely, silently wishing she were someone else. "You smell of perfume," she whispered.

"From Umbridge's office," I lied again. I knew that scent well: Olivia's scent of vanilla and rose. I certainly couldn't have Pansy knowing what I had been up to. My 'relationship' with her was one of the only things hiding my true feelings, despite the fact that it was incredibly one sided. Thankfully, that seemed to be enough explanation for her. If Hogwarts had taught me one thing, it was how to come up with quick excuses.

The rest of the walk to the common room was monopolized by Goyle boasting about catching Potter. Though I never got on with Harry, I had no particular interest in capturing him. All that I had cared about was getting Olivia safe. Working for Umbridge hadn't been my idea. I was made head of the Inquisitorial Squad under her insistence and my father's encouragement. Quite frankly though, I was glad for it because it provided me with another cover and a distraction.

When we arrived back in the common room, the girls immediately went upstairs to change and take their makeup off, leaving Crabbe, Goyle, Theo, Blaise and I to get comfortable. I fell back on one of the many couches with my current read in my grasp — a muggle book titled _Adventures of Huckleberry Finn_ — and my feet up.

"Mate," I heard several minutes later, looking up to see Blaise standing over me, "you've got lipstick on your cheek."

"Fuck," I muttered, wiping at it with my shirtsleeve.

Blaise laughed at my sudden panic. "Now you've got lipstick on your sleeve," he pointed out.

I glanced down at the crisp white fabric to see that it was in fact stained a deep shade of pink. "Dammit," I sighed, tossing my book aside and quickly stripping the shirt off, along with my tie, and discarding them onto the floor. With a shake of his head, Blaise turned away. A slight laugh bubbled in my chest, escaping my lips. "Thanks, mate," I chuckled as he sat down on one of the armchairs opposite me with his leather journal in his hand. Luckily, none of the other boys seemed to notice, with Theo already pouring over his homework and Crabbe and Goyle hunched over a packet of sweets at the table.

"You really ought to be more careful if you're going to be sneaking around like that," he said lowly.

I didn't say anything back in defense of my carelessness, simply laying back down and picking up my book.

The girls returned nearly half an hour later, barefaced and begrudging as usual. I sat up briefly for Pansy to sit down, replacing my head in her lap. Her hands played absently with my hair as she gossiped with Astoria, Daphne, and Millicent. I paid her little attention until she looked down at me with a huff. "What is it you're reading anyway?" she asked.

"A book," I said plainly without looking away from the pages, "haven't you seen one before?"

I could sense her eye-roll without even looking up. "I meant _what book,"_ she growled.

"Surely you can read the title," I retorted as I turned the page over.

Her hand retracted from my hair. "Is that a muggle book?"

"Yep."

That made her even more annoyed. "I'm going to bed," she announced, standing up and nearly knocking me off the couch.

"Goodnight," I called after her as I repositioned myself with one arm behind my head. The rest of the girls followed her out. Finally, the common room was silent again, aside from the crackling fire. Theo had retired to the dorm shortly after the girls arrived, claiming that their gossip was too loud and distracting from his studying. Crabbe and Goyle followed the girls' lead and went to bed too, seeing as Blaise and I were far too boring with silently enjoying each others' company. The two of us were left alone, me reclined and reading, Blaise scribbling away in his journal. The silence was calm and comfortable, something that we were both used to in our long friendship. Unlike the more simple minded folk, we didn't need the constant stimulation to be entertained. This was likely because we had both grown up as only children forced to occupy ourselves on our own.

We stayed like this for what felt like forever. The rhythm of Blaise's quill tapping at his journal was oddly soothing. I never had any idea what he was writing in that thing, but I never ventured to ask. If he wanted to tell me, he would. The fact that he hadn't mentioned it made me believe that it was something incredibly personal as we told each other (almost) everything. When the tapping ceased and I heard the sound of the journal snap closed, I looked up. "So what were you really up to tonight?" he asked.

I bit my lip as I debated whether or not to tell him the truth. "I helped Olivia get away," I sighed honestly, "I gave her my robe so that she could sneak back to the Gryffindor tower."

He nodded slowly, "fair enough."

"She's already gotten into enough trouble because of me," I said somewhat defensively, "and it gave me an excuse to talk to her."

He chuckled. "And kiss her?"

I shook my head. "She kissed my cheek. That's it."

He kept nodding, but I could see that he didn't quite believe me. "Draco," he sighed before standing up, "you're my best friend, you know that. But I don't want to see you get yourself into trouble over this girl. I know how much you like her, but you'd be risking everything to have her."

"Blaise," I said as I closed my book, matching his tone, "some people are worth risking everything for."

He licked his lips, "you think so?"

"I know so," I whispered defiantly, sitting up.

I wasn't too sure what happened next. I blinked and the next thing I knew, Blaise was standing over me, his lips on mine.


	19. nineteen

**This chapter is fairly short, but I wanted to fill in some holes before everything gets a little more intense. I hope you enjoy it anyway! Don't forget to leave a review.**

OLIVIA:

"Boys," I huffed at the twins at lunch just after easter holidays, "please at least tell me what you're planning."

To my disappointment, both of them were shaking their heads. "Now Ollie," Fred smiled mischievously, "that would ruin all of the fun!"

I put my fork down on my plate and crossed my arms. "Please don't make it more fireworks. They were fun the first time, but I don't think that I can deal with any more explosions," I said.

"Of course not," George scoffed, "we can't pull the same thing twice!"

"Besides, we used up our whole supply!" Fred said.

I rolled my eyes but didn't wipe the smile from my face. Having them back was the best thing that had happened since Christmas. Granted, hanging out with Fred sometimes got a bit awkward, but I didn't mind. I knew that I had missed their troublesome antics, but I didn't realize how much until they were back.

The two of them busied themselves in whispered conversation while I scanned around the Great Hall. As usual, I found myself eyeing the Slytherin table. Draco was sat with Pansy Parkinson at his side, both looking miserable. Yet again, there was one face missing from the table: Blaise Zabini. Typically he and Draco were attached at the hip, virtually inseparable. More recently though, he was nowhere to be seen.

I nearly asked the boys if they knew anything about it seeing as they had a hand in the disappearance of Montague after shoving him in a Vanishing Cabinet, but though better of it. Fred wouldn't appreciate me mentioning anything that was remotely related to Draco. " _What do you care?_ " I could already hear him saying.

"Well," I sighed, "I've got to get to Charms, so I guess I'll be seeing you later. Please don't get into too much trouble. I'd like to enjoy what's left of my last year with you two."

They glanced at each other nervously but didn't say anything about it. "See you," they both chimed as I stood up and walked out of the Great Hall.

The rest of my day played out incredibly normally. My classes were bland and uneventful. In Charms, we were covering Protean charms, which I was already familiar with from using our D.A. coins to communicate. My final class of the day, Transfigurations, was pleasantly entertaining. We were practicing human Transfiguration in the form of altering appearances. Katie and I had a fun time trying different hair and eye colors on each other, laughing at every ridiculous style we gave one another.

"Good job, girls!" Professor McGonagall commented as she walked by. We, unlike most of the class, had avoided any large mishaps. Behind us, Marcus Belby had succeeded in setting Eddie Carmichael's curly blonde hair on fire almost immediately. This gave me the pleasure of turning around and shooting Eddie in the face with a water-making charm to put out the flames, leaving his head soaked. "I must say, that charm was impressive, Riddle, albeit aggressive," McGonagall said.

I shrugged and ran a hand through my currently ginger hair sheepishly. I had made a habit of casting spells stronger than I had intended. "You look like a Weasley," Katie giggled.

These tricks occupied us for the remainder of the lesson. Almost immediately after we were dismissed, as I was still gathering my things, there were sudden screams and yells reverberating from somewhere below. Fred and George had pulled off their newest scheme in Operation Give Umbridge Hell.

I followed the rest of the students and the sounds to where the stunt seemed to have taken place. Sure enough, just inside the Entrance Hall was a large crowd of students standing in a ring, some seemingly covered in Stinksap. Also among the crowd were several professors and ghosts looking all too pleased for the circumstances. Just in front of the door that I knew led down to the Slytherin common room was Draco and his crew (still missing Blaise). Draco even seemed to be suppressing a smile as he watched the scene before him unfold. And as expected, at the center of the circle stood the twins looking rather proud of themselves.

Just in front of me stood Professor Umbridge, staring down at the boys as if they were freshly caught prey. "So, you think it amusing to turn a school corridor into a swamp, do you?" She said shrilly.

Fred smiled up at her, but briefly flashed his eyes towards me and gave me a wink. "Pretty amusing, yeah," he said without the slightest sign of fear. My heart was racing. This was not the time for him to be mouthy with a professor.

I felt a firm jab just below my ribcage and was shoved aside by Filch. "I've got the form, Headmistress," he said hoarsely, waving around a piece of parchment so wildly that I couldn't make out what it said, "I've got the form and I've got the whips waiting! Oh, let me do it now. . . ."

 _Whips?!_ Surely that couldn't be true. Hogwarts had done away with corporal punishment ages ago. But sure enough, Umbridge grinned wider. "Very good, Argus," she said. "You two," she went on, gazing down at Fred and George, "are about to learn what happens to wrongdoers in my school."

"You know what?" Fred said smartly, "I don't think we are." He turned to his twin. My breath hitched as I stared down at him shaking my head vigorously. The boys were smart, but sometimes they lacked common sense. If they kept this up, they'd find themselves expelled. "George, I think we've outgrown full-time education."

"Yeah, I've been feeling that way myself," George said lightly. The expression on their faces led me to believe that this was not the end of their plans.

"Time to test our talents in the real world, d'you reckon?" Fred asked.

"Definitely," George said.

Before anyone could move or say a word, they raised their wand. " _Accio Brooms_!" They chimed together cheerfully.

A loud crash came from somewhere in the distance. Fred and George's broomsticks, one still trailing the heavy chain and iron peg with which Umbridge had fastened them to the wall of her office, were hurtling along the corridor toward their owners. They turned left, streaked down the stairs, and stopped sharply in front of the twins, the chain clattering loudly on the flagged stone floor. "We won't be seeing you," Fred told Professor Umbridge boldly, swinging his leg over his broomstick.

"Yeah, don't bother to keep in touch," George quipped, mounting his own.

They both looked around at the crowd that had assembled around them, grinning. "If anyone fancies buying a Portable Swamp, as demonstrated up- stairs, come to number ninety-three, Diagon Alley — Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes," Fred said in a loud voice. "Our new premises!"

"Special discounts to Hogwarts students who swear they're going to use our products to get rid of this old bat," added George, pointing at Professor Umbridge. They were seriously doing this. This was their grand exit.

"STOP THEM!" Umbridge shrieked. Several members of the Inquisitorial Squad moved forward (to my surprise, not including Draco), but it was too late. Fred and George kicked off from the floor, shooting fifteen feet into the air, the iron peg swinging dangerously below. Fred looked across the hall at the poltergeist bobbing on his level above the crowd.

"Give her hell from us, Peeves."

And Peeves, whom had never taken an order from a student before, swept his belled hat from his head and sprang to a salute as Fred and George wheeled about to tumultuous applause from the students below and sped out of the open front doors into the glorious sunset.

And that was it. Fred and George were gone.

"Did you know about this?" I heard someone ask from behind me.

I turned to find Harry standing just several steps above me. "No," I sighed in defeat, "not at all."

As the crowd began to disperse, I stayed standing there, watching the two silhouettes disappear into the horizon and wishing that they had told me they were leaving. When my eyes finally pulled away from the sky, I looked away to find that the Entrance Hall was nearly empty. Taking a deep breath, I turned away and headed back up the stairs.

The entire castle was far too rowdy to get any work done. I stopped briefly by the common room to find everyone in a rather boisterous mood, a bottle of butterbeer already in the hand of nearly every student. "Olivia!" Angelina shouted across to me as I stepped through the portrait, "have a drink with us!"

I shook my head, "I've got to write this essay for McGonagall."

Katie, who was sat at the table with Angelina, scoffed, "come on! That's not due for another week!"

I had no response to this, but I really didn't fancy celebrating right then. "I'm going to go to the library," I said before ducking back through the hole I had just entered from.

The library, on the other hand, was completely quiet. From what I could see among the hundreds of shelves, there was only one other student.

I sat down a few tables away from him and pulled out my textbook to begin writing my essay on the dangers of human transfiguration. I tried my best to ignore the the fact that the boy was glancing at me every few minutes, but the intensity of his stare was hard to ignore.

"You know," I said, making him jump, "Draco misses having you around."

He looked up from the book he had been writing in. "Excuse me?" he asked in surprise.

"You heard me," I said coyly.

He shifted in his seat as if the mention of Draco made him uncomfortable. "Did he tell you-?"

"Draco hasn't told me anything. I can just tell."

He seemed to relax at that. "You really think he misses me?"

I nodded. "He's been looking even more bleak than usual, which I didn't even think possible. What even happened between you two anyway?"

"It's complicated," he said quickly.

I raised an eyebrow but didn't question him further. "Whatever it was, you should talk to him about it. Don't risk losing your best friend over something stupid."

He kept staring at me blankly. Blaise had always been difficult to read, a bit stoic and resigned. I barely knew the guy — the only interaction that I had ever had with him was sitting at the same table at the Yule Ball — but from what I could tell, Draco held him in a high enough regard to spend his days with him. "What do you care?" he said, suddenly defensive.

"Draco cares about you, and I care about Draco," I said simply.

Zabini was quiet for a minute, looking back down at his book. Eventually, he sighed, "I think I get it now, what he sees in you."

This comment peaked my interest. "You know about that?"

He scoffed, his cold persona fading to be replaced by his usual arrogant aura. "I'm not blind. It's pretty obvious. But yes, he's talked to me about it."

The smile on his face made my insides twist into a anxious knot. People knew about Draco and I. I mean, I knew that if we were going to ever be together (or potentially get married), people were going to find out, but I never imagined that they would know before we even knew what we felt for each other. "What does he see in me then?" I asked, trying to hide my nerves.

"You're not totally insufferable," he shrugged, "not as awful as Parkinson anyway. I wouldn't shag you, but there are other reasons for that."

I choked on my own breath at the vulgarity of that remark. "Excuse me?"

"I wouldn't shag you," he repeated, apparently not thinking anything of it.

I managed to regain my composure enough to muster a smirk worthy of a Weasley, "At least that feeling is mutual."

He leaned back in his chair and laughed, "Fair enough. You know, with wit like that you might be able to keep up with us Slytherins."

My response was interrupted by the sound of Madame Pince clearing her throat. I turned around to find her standing just a few feet behind me, arms crossed. "Quiet in the library!"

I looked around after she disappeared again, "We're the only ones here."

Blaise muffled another laugh into his hand. "I'm going to be leaving anyway," he said, standing up and gathering his things.

"Was it something I said?" I asked sarcastically.

To my surprise, he smiled, "Yeah, actually it was. Thanks, Riddle." And with that, he disappeared.

DRACO:

"Dray?" I heard as the dormitory door opened and closed softly. I jumped slightly. No one had called me by this nickname since second year.

Looking up from my book, I saw Blaise hovering several feet from my bed. "Blaise!" I said, snapping my book closed and sitting up straight in shock. Ever since he fled the common room immediately after kissing me, he hadn't been particularly keen on speaking to me. But after weeks of him blatantly ignoring my attempts to speak to him, he was finally initiating the conversation. "What's up?"

He looked down at the floor nervously, "Can we talk?"

I nodded as I swung my legs off of my bed, "Of course."

He sat down on his bed next to mine and drew a long deep breath before continuing. "I'm so sorry," he muttered, his eyes on the floor, "I'm sorry I kissed you."

"Blaise," I whispered, trying to coax him into looking at me. To anyone who didn't know Blaise like I did, this would have been extremely out of character for him. But in the years that we had been friends, we'd had some long and deep conversations that made this one a lot easier.

He shook his head, "I'm disgusting. I never should have done that."

I reached out and placed a supportive hand on his knee. "No, you're not. It's okay."

I saw his eyes flash up at me for a moment. In the low green glow, I could see his eye glistening with unshed tears. I had never seen Blaise cry before. Frankly, I had hardly seen him shown any real emotions at all. "Draco," he sighed, "I think I'm gay."

I nodded. This was something that I had suspected ever since this school year had started, long before he planted that kiss on me. I had seen the way that he watched other guys as they walked by at meals or how, despite his jokingly provocative remarks about girls, he never expressed any genuine interest in them. It all made perfect sense to me. "I know," I whispered. "I've known for a while."

"What do you mean you know?"

I shrugged, "You're my best friend. I just do. It's okay."

He looked up at me, a silence hanging in the air. Our eyes met and I tried to search his face to see what he was thinking, but he had become an expert at putting up walls. "About that," he whispered.

"Yeah?"

He swallowed hard. "You've probably worked this out already, but I like you. Like, like you."

"Blaise," I said again, this time more firmly than before. I didn't want to upset him, but I just didn't feel that way about him.

He held up and assertive hand, stopping me. "Don't. Spare me the rejection. Besides, I wouldn't want to give up our friendship anyway. That isn't worth risking. So, I'm over it."

I felt the corners of my mouth twitch, resisting the urge to smile. I had my best friend back.

"Please," he pleaded finally, "don't tell anyone."

I inched closer to the edge of my bed, looking him directly in the eyes. "I would never," I assured him. He was sweating and shaking, but a grin slowly started to spread onto his face.

"Damn," he sighed in relief, "I actually just said that out loud."

"Yeah," I said with a cautious smile, "you did."

A laugh escaped from him, a laugh that had built up in him for months. This laugh made any worry that I had moments before completely dissolve.

"Want to go grab some dinner?" I suggested, unable to hide my happiness as I stood up and offered him a hand.

He accepted, "I'm starving."

Just as we were about to leave the dorm, he paused. "Oh, and that Riddle girl?" He said, "I think she is worth the risk for you. I approve."

"You think so?" I asked, my heart suddenly fluttering uncontrollably.

He nodded. "I do. She seems… interesting."

And just like always, we walked down to the Great Hall together as if nothing had happened. Within minutes, we returned to our old ways with our somewhat tactless jabs and joking conversations.


	20. twenty

**So sorry that I haven't updated in so long! This past semester of school has been brutal (along with writer's block), but I'm back! I hope you enjoy this new chapter!**

OLIVIA:

"There has to be some way that we can shut them up," I sighed in frustration, throwing myself onto the couch.

Angelina shook her head, "You can't stop Slytherin from being Slytherin. They're going to be there, and they're going to be chanting that stupid song. There's nothing we can do."

The final match of the Quidditch season, Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw, was approaching fast. Although Slytherin had been narrowly defeated by Hufflepuff in their last match, Gryffindor was not daring to hope for victory, due mainly (though of course nobody said it to him) to Ron's abysmal goalkeeping record. And just as they had at our match against Hufflepuff, the Slytherins would undoubtably be there to gloat at our failures.

"Maybe he'll be better without Fred and George around?" Katie suggested hopefully.

Ginny nodded at that. "They didn't exactly boost his confidence. And at least we know what we're working with this time around. He can't get any worse, can he?"

I had to laugh at her lack of support for her older brother. Angelina huffed, "We aren't going to take any chances. All we have to do is keep the Quaffle away from Ravenclaw and you have to get that snitch as fast as possible. And maybe you-" her eyes moved onto me "- will shape up without the twins."

I nodded, only halfway listening. My mind was still reeling as I tried to think of a way to combat the Slytherin students.

"Earth to Olivia?" Katie said loudly next to me.

"What if we fight fire with fire?" I said distantly.

Katie raised her eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

At just that moment, I heard the portrait open and I turned to see who it was. "Seamus! Dean!" I called as I jumped up from the couch cushions. "I need your help!" With that, I grabbed them both by the sleeves and pulled them away from the others.

"And they're off!" Lee Jordan yelled into the cheers of the crowd, his usual gusto slightly absent. My heart fell into my stomach as I launched myself up into the air, my nerves mounting. Immediately, Roger Davies, the Ravenclaw captain, took the Quaffle.

 _Dammit,_ I sighed. Our plan of keeping the Quaffle away from the Ravenclaws was already off to a poor start. Johnson made a pass at him, but he managed to dodge her. Next was Katie, who sped past Bradley and knocked Davies in the side. I ducked forward and made way for his other side, but the third chaser — Chambers — cut me off and forced me to cut to the left. The air in front of Davies was completely clear.

Lee swore very loudly. "And he's scored."

Predictably, horribly, the Slytherins on the other side of the stands began to sing:

 _Weasley cannot save a thing,_

 _He cannot block a single ring!_

My eyes flashed down to the crowd of green in the stands as I sped around. I could see Draco among them but he was standing sightly away from the rest, Blaise Zabini at his side.

Katie had managed to get to the Quaffle before any of the Ravenclaw Chasers did, almost immediately passing it to me.

I spun in a corkscrew with the ball tucked under my arm, dodging below the other players before arching up towards the goalposts. I threw it, turning before I could see where it went.

The scarlet stands erupted into cheers, and then I heard it: the chant that Seamus and Dean had helped me write and teach the rest of the house:

 _Who are we fighting for?_

 _Gryffindor! Give it all for the red and gold!_

 _Who are we flying for?_

 _Gryffindor! This is battle, this is war!_

A wicked smile spread across my face as I pumped my fist in the air.

 _Who are we fighting for?_

 _Gryffindor! We're a force you can't ignore_

 _Who are we flying for?_

 _Gryffindor! This is battle, this is war!_

Hearing the sound of every Gryffindor yelling the words at the top of their lungs sent a chill down my spine. Seamus and Dean, who were standing at the front leading the group, were both beaming. Bradley was headed back up the pitch with the Quaffle, but I held back and watched. There was an intense look on Ron's face as he watched the Chasers racing towards him.

Bradley looked like he was aiming for the left goal hoop, but at the last second ducked to the right and threw the ball. Ron darted to the side and —

 _Who are we fighting for?_

 _Gryffindor! Give it all for the red and gold!_

 _Who are we flying for?_

 _Gryffindor! This is battle, this is war!_

He blocked it! Ron blocked a goal! I turned to the Gryffindor stands that I had been hovering in front of and started to yell at the top of my lungs, "Who are we fighting for?"

"Gryffindor! We're a force you can't ignore!" They called back.

That was the start of one of the best Quidditch matches that I had ever played. Ron blocked nearly every other shot that came his way and our rally cry echoed all through the pitch.

"Dean! Seamus!" I shouted as I hovered above them. They turned to look up at me. "The other one! Start the other one! They can't possibly catch up."

Both of their faces broke into grins as they turned back to the audience.

 _Weasley is our King,_

 _Weasley is our King,_

 _He didn't let the Quaffle in,_

 _Weasley is our King . . ._

Out of curiosity, I glanced towards the Slytherin crowd. The majority of them looked incredibly cross at the sound of this song — more than they did at the other one — especially Pansy Parkinson. This only made the adrenaline and excitement inside of me intensify.

And then I saw a flash of red up above me. Ginny was after the snitch. The screaming was louder than it had ever been.

 _Weasley can save anything,_

 _He never leaves a single ring_

 _That's why Gryffindors all sing:_

 _Weasley is our King._

We won. We had actually won. A celebratory scream escaped my lips, both of my hands above my head. But the next thing I knew, the screams of victory turned into screams of fear and a sudden pain struck me straight in the chest.

"Olivia!" I heard someone yell as I felt my broom come out from underneath me. The wind whistled in my ears as I fell through the open air 50 feet up, my scarlet Quidditch robes billowing out around me.

A sensation engulfed me as I neared the grassy pitch, as if a parachute had deployed above me. But it was too late. The second that my body met the ground, everything went black.

 _The room around me was dark, barely visible in the blue tint of moonlight. Something about the scene felt young and innocent, but also ominous at the same time. I appeared to be alone, but a voice could be heard from somewhere seemingly several rooms away._

 _"_ _You have failed me yet again, my son," it growled._

 _A second and much deeper voice answered, "I'm terribly sorry, Father. I will not let you down any longer."_

 _"_ _How many times have you promised me this?" The first voice fired back._

 _The son seemed to hesitate before responding. "This shall be the last. I will bring you nothing but pride from this moment forward."_

 _"_ _Perhaps this family was not a wise decision for you," the father said, sounding even more disappointed than before, "you were of much greater service to me before."_

 _"_ _Father!" The son pleaded, "I have told you before, I will not harm Anastasia. And…" His voice broke, "And Olivia. I love them, Father." A tightness filled my entire being. At first, I distantly thought that conversation could possibly be between Draco and Lucius Malfoy, but at the sound of my own name, I was hit with a staggering realization: this was my father speaking to his own, Lord Voldemort._

 _"_ _You have become soft," Voldemort hissed disapprovingly._

 _"_ _You do not understand love," my father barked back, followed my a distasteful "My Lord."_

 _There was a sudden crash, and then I heard Voldemort's voice bellow "Crucio!"_

 _A horrible scream split through the quiet, piercing my ears. But it ceased as quick as it began. "Weak," Voldemort spat, "You shall not speak to your father that way."_

 _"_ _Yes, Father. I'm sorry, Father."_

 _The curse was repeated, followed by the same raw scream._

"Olivia!" I heard a familiar voice call as the world around me came back into focus. I blinked hard, the bright light of the hospital wing burning my eyes. Katie and Angelina were standing on either side of my bed looking worried. "Olivia, are you okay?" Katie asked.

I looked around the room before answering. The entire Gryffindor Quidditch team, including Harry, was sat around me, the same look of concern on their faces. Surprised, I tried to push myself up into a sitting position but was stopped as a sharp pain shot up my chest. "What happened?" I asked, still dazed.

"The Bludger went completely rouge!" Angelina said furiously, "I've never seen anything like it! No one even hit it near you and it knocked you off your broom!"

Ron Weasley piped up, "Looked like someone had cast a spell on it!"

"Someone must have to really hate you to do that though!" Katie said, taken aback, "If it weren't for Madame Hooch, the fall would have killed you!"

I scoffed unintentionally. The list of people who really hated me seemed to be growing longer and longer recently. "It was a Slytherin," I said matter-of-factly, "because of the chants. They knew I wrote them."

Angelina raised her eyebrows questioningly, "Slytherins may be evil, but surely they wouldn't try to murder you over a silly little song, would they?"

Ginny shrugged from where she sat on the foot of the bed. "Wouldn't put it past them," she sighed, "besides, maybe they didn't mean to knock her off. The impact alone was enough to break her sternum."

"We're really sorry," said Jack Sloper, one of our substitute Beaters, "We should have been able to stop it."

I smiled weakly, the pain slowly catching up to me as the shock wore off. "It's not your fault," I said, "It would have knocked you right off too if you got in its way."

"Those chants were brilliant, Olivia," Katie smiled, "we would have been destroyed without them."

A small sheepish laugh overcame me, causing another sharp pain to shoot down my chest. The idea that a few small songs caused us to win the Quidditch cup seemed insane to me. "It wasn't all me," I shrugged, "Dean and Seamus are the ones who led them."

"How do you feel?" Harry asked, speaking up for the first time.

I tried to take a deep breath, but that too resulted in an intense pain. "I've been better."

The sound of voices down the hall pulled everyones' attention away from me. I looked towards the doorway to find Professor McGonagall joined by Emmeline, a stern and angered look on her face. "Oh, Olivia darling!" Emmeline gasped the second that she saw me.

I smiled at them, trying to mask the immense amount of pain that was slowly coming over me.

"Kids," McGonagall said sternly, "excuse us."

The team looked around at each other before getting to their feet. With several quick and worried glances towards me, they exited the hospital wing and left me with the even more concerned looking adults.

"Ms. Riddle, are you alright?" Professor McGonagall asked.

I nodded weakly, "I'm alright. We won, that's what matters."

Emmeline smiled slightly, "that's my girl."

Her smile sent a rush of relief through me. I had tried hard not to think about how much I missed her over the course of the year, but now that she was standing here, everything felt right again. I felt safe. I had to resist the urge to jump up from the bed and hug her in excitement.

McGonagall was smiling too. "I'll leave you two to catch up. I've got to go question some students to find out who did this." With that, she spun on her heels and swept out of the room, leaving Emmeline and I alone for the first time since June.

"I'm so glad you're alright," Emmeline sighed deeply, "We were all horrified when Severus told us what had happened."

I blinked, slowly trying to process what she said. Clearly, my brain was still half asleep. "Severus? Like, Professor Snape? And 'we'? Who's 'we'?"

Emmeline laughed gently, finding some amusement in my confusion. "Yes, like Professor Snape. Dumbledore sent him to inform us of the incident, us being everyone at Headquarters."

"What were you doing at Headquarters?" I asked, even more confused. In all the time that I had spent living at Grimmauld Place, Emmeline had only been twice.

"The Order has been meeting much more frequently since Christmas. I don't mean to scare you, but we're honestly worried," she sighed, "with Harry's strange visions, the breakout from Azkaban, and just general tension, everything had gotten more serious much quicker than we initially thought."

I nodded. I too had been shocked by how quickly Voldemort's efforts were moving along. "At least Sirius is having company," I said, trying to stay optimistic. Emmeline's face changed. If I hadn't known her so well, I probably wouldn't have noticed the sudden flush in her cheeks at the mention of Sirius. I instantly thought back to the spark in her eye when he greeted her on Christmas day, which was incredibly uncharacteristic of her more levelheaded and composed nature. I raised an eyebrow in her direction and she looked down, not wanting to meet my eyes. "Are you and Sirius…?" I asked, my voice trailing off as I couldn't even form the rest of the question.

"We've been seeing a lot of each other recently," she said coyly, somehow thinking that would get me to back off. When I kept staring at her, she sighed. "Sirius and I have known each other since we were at Hogwarts together. We just enjoy each other's company, that's all." I saw right through her. I could tell that there was something more happening between them with the way the corners of her mouth twitched upwards at the mention of him, but I let it go. "Professor McGonagall told me of this forced engagement," she said, abruptly changing the subject.

My heart dropped. I had successfully managed to push the idea of marrying Draco out of my mind since Fred and I had broken up, but the weight of the reality came crashing back onto me all at once. "Emmy, what do I do?" I said pleadingly.

She took a deep breath. "Minerva says that this boy is on track to become a Death Eater. That's definitely not the type that you want to be associating with, purely for your own safety. I'm very familiar with that Malfoy family and they're bad news."

Though I knew that this fate was likely true for Draco, it made me feel instantly defensive. "But it's not his fault. His father is making him—"

"His father is a master of manipulation. How else do you think he's managed to avoid any criminal investigation from the Ministry?" Emmeline said, suddenly deathly serious, "for all you know, his son could be playing the same mind games that he does. Anything that he tells you could be a blatant lie."

I shook my head insistently, "Draco isn't like that. He doesn't want-"

She cut me off again. "Olivia, have you begun to care for this boy?"

"Maybe I have," I spat, her accusations against Draco making anger boil beneath my skin. I had never been angry at Emmeline like this. For the majority of my life, she was the only adult that I truly felt that I could trust and who would support me through anything, but now she sat here telling me that I shouldn't care about an innocent boy. "He's not too different from Sirius, you know. They're descendants from the same pureblood family. You don't seem to hold that against Sirius."

"No," Emmeline said surprisingly calmly, " _you_ are like Sirius. Sirius was sane enough to remove himself from that family, just as you were from yours. If anything, Draco Malfoy is like Regulus."

I swallowed hard. "If it weren't for Dumbledore, I would be in the exact same position as Draco is. I too would be stuck in a toxic family run by Death Eaters. Draco was never given the chance that I was. I feel bad for him."

Her eyes pulled away from mine for the first time, glancing down at the floor. "Olivia, dear," she whispered, "you're a very smart girl and I trust you to make these decisions for yourself. But please be careful. I just don't want to see you hurt."

I nodded slowly. Something in the comparison of myself to Draco had made her feel visibly uncomfortable, but once again I decided not to press any further.

"Do you have any idea who may have done this to you? Anyone who has any reason to hurt you?" Emmeline asked, thankfully sensing that I was looking to drop the subject of my pending marriage.

One name stuck out in my mind, someone who absolutely hated me and everything I stood for. "Pansy Parkinson. I'm sure of it. She has some sort of personal vendetta against me."

She knit her eyebrows together. "Parkinson? I know that name. A Slytherin I assume?"

I nodded. "She's obsessed with Malfoy, so naturally, she hates my guts."

Emmeline didn't seem so sure. "But would she really try to kill you?"

"I wouldn't put it past her," I sighed, "she's not a fan of someone else getting what she wants and would do anything to have it her way."

She didn't say anything for a moment but I could practically see the gears turning in her head. "It's worth looking into. I'll go find Minerva. Get some rest, darling. Don't hesitate to write me if you need anything at all."

"I can't," I said sharply, "Umbridge has been monitoring all letters that are sent and received. She seems to think that the students are trying to sabotage her somehow just because we actually want to learn defensive magic."

Her expression softened. "We're all very proud of the initiative that you kids have shown, no matter what the Ministry says. It was brave to be so defiant. And a bit reckless, but I wouldn't expect anything less."

Without another word, she stood and left the hospital wing, leaving me all alone.

DRACO:

I could feel my pale cheeks growing red with anger as I paced the length of the dark common room. "Let me get this straight," I huffed, my eyes trained on my feet, "you _really_ thought that killing her was the solution?"

"I told you, I wasn't trying to kill her!" Pansy said insistently.

I rolled my eyes. "Then what were you trying to do? She was fifty feet off the ground when she fell! You know damn well that she'd be dead if no one acted fast enough." I looked up as my voice raised unintentionally.

Pansy shrugged, "Would that have been so bad?"

Hearing her say that made another wave of disgust hit me, but I couldn't let it show too much. "Yes, it would have," I said harshly, "you could be expelled as it is!"

"She was annoying me!" Pansy repeated for what seemed like the millionth time.

I threw my hands up in exasperation, "well why didn't you say so! That makes it all okay!"

"Draco," I heard Blaise say sharply somewhere off to my left, "calm down. It's all going to be fine."

I turned to look at him, my jaw clenched. He stood with his arms crossed and brow furrowed. I knew that he was trying to make me less upset but it was no use. "You know what, Pans?" I sighed, "I'm tired of this. I'm tired of babysitting you. I'm tired of being the one to do damage control for every stupid thing that you do. I can't be with you anymore."

I heard a collective gasp echo through the crowded common room. "Draco, you don't mean that," Pansy said insistently.

My jaw flapped open as I tried to form some sort of coherent response, but my anger had gotten the best of me and rendered my words entirely useless. Rather than indulging her need for attention, I abruptly spun on my heels and marched down the stairs to the dormitory.

The second that the door slammed closed behind me, I let out a deep yell as all of my frustrations boiled to the surface. Surely my relationship with Olivia wasn't the cause of this, right? _It would have happened regardless,_ I told myself, _Pansy always hated her._ But a nagging thought circled the back of my mind. Whether or not this had anything to do with our closeness, eventually something _would_ happen because of it.

I had known this relationship was dangerous from the very beginning. Even an innocent friendship was treacherous. I was the one who had put her in harm's way.

It wasn't entirely about Olivia or Pansy though, but a culmination of everything that the last year had subjected me to. As summer grew nearer, I grew more on edge. If everything went to my father's plan, I would likely be receiving my mark within the next month. Though I hadn't really allowed this to set in, it constantly loomed in the back of my mind. In addition to the fear that I had been feeling since the end of last school year, a very distinct frustration had started to form, a frustration with my situation, with my helplessness, with everyone around me who knew my fate but refused to do something about it.

"Feel better?" I heard from behind me. I turned around, startled. Blaise stood in the doorway, the same concerned look on his face as before. I knew that he would eventually come down to talk to me, but I didn't expect it to be so soon.

I raised an eyebrow, biting back a snide remark knowing that he was asking from a place of true worry. "Not really," I said honestly with a deep sigh as I attempted to recollect myself.

He took a step into the room, closing the door behind him. "What's on your mind? I know there's more to it," he asked.

I looked down at my feet and swallowed hard. A million thoughts came rushing through my mind, far too many to say out loud. The rock in my chest rose into my throat, forbidding me from speaking. I raised my chin to meet Blaise's stare, biting my lip to keep it from quivering. A meek shake of my head was all I could muster without breaking down entirely. His face instantly changed, his mouth falling open in surprise.

"Dray," he gasped softly. Without a second's hesitation, he pulled me into a tight embrace, my face pressed into the crook of his neck. Though we had been good friends for a long time, this closeness was something entirely new. Physical touch had a tendency to make me anxious and claustrophobic, with only two exceptions: Blaise and Olivia. At first, he didn't say anything more, comforting me only with his arms around me.

I tried to take a deep breath, but I instantly felt suffocated. "This is all my fault," I whispered weakly.

I felt him shaking his head. "That's not true," he said, "You're being too hard on yourself. You can't control everything that Pansy does."

"That's not what I mean," I said as I pushed myself away from him. "Blaise, I'm going to be a Death Eater soon. There is nothing that I can do to stop it." I fell back onto my bed in defeat, giving in to the emotions that I had been hiding.

He stood silently for a moment, clearly knowing that there was nothing that he could say to make it better. "Draco, you can't do this to yourself," he sighed, "you can't keep bottling things up until you explode. That's not healthy."

"What am I supposed to do?" I huffed stubbornly. "I can't exactly broadcast that to the world."

Blaise shook his head, "No, but you can talk to me. That is what friends are for."

"I've tried to talk to people before. I talked to Olivia, and look what that got her."

He fell silent again. Us Slytherins were never very good with emotions or communication. Any amount of vulnerability would send us running for the hills. The fact that he was still standing there trying to offer his support meant far more than anything that he could possibly say out loud. Instead of speaking, he sat down next to me, making it clear that he wasn't going anywhere.

I looked up at him, "Thank you, Blaise."

The weight on my shoulders wasn't entirely gone, but it felt lighter. "I'm not going to pressure you if you aren't comfortable with it, but if you ever decide that you want to talk to someone, I'll always be here for you," he reminded me, "You have always been there when I needed you the most. Now it's my turn."

I forced a smile, not wanting to worry him any more. "I think I'm going to go make sure Olivia's okay," I said, quickly turning the subject away from me and standing up.

"I think that's a good idea."

And with that, I turned and headed for the hospital wing.

 **Thanks for reading! Don't forget to leave a review :)**


	21. twenty-one

**Hey guys! I know that its been a really long time since I last updated but here's another chapter for anyone who's still interested. It's a pretty long one, so I hope you like it :)**

DRACO:

Despite the mounting pressure of O.W.L. exams and my growing fear of the summer to come, the following weeks were some of the best that I had at Hogwarts in a long time. Pansy was no longer clinging to my arm constantly and the majority of the Slytherin house seemed to be avoiding me after seeing me lay into Pansy in the common room. I reallocated most of my time to focus on my studies, with Blaise as my only consistent company. On occasion, when I was lucky, I would see Olivia across the library. I hadn't been able to speak to her since I saw her in the hospital wing, but being able to briefly glance at her was all that I needed. By the time that exam week rolled around, I was burnt out and exhausted. Star charts and ancient runes swam through my brain constantly, making it impossible to put all of my attention into a single task. However, I had begun to enjoy this kind of exhaustion. I was too tired to worry about receiving my Mark.

On Monday, I sat my first exam: Theory of Charms. I felt alright about it at first, but by the time we were sat down for lunch, I had successfully managed to second-guess every single answer. This was my problem: I was decently smart, but I was so paranoid of messing up that I could never answer confidently.

Unfortunately though, my practical exam did involve one small disaster. I was nearly finished by the time Potter walked in and sat down with the judge beside mine. His heavy and judgmental stare caused me to panic and the wine glass that I had been levitating smashed to the floor. This threw me into a spiral, the frustration at my mistake disturbing my focus for the remainder of the evaluation. How had I managed to mess up something as simple as levitation? First years knew how to levitate objects without a problem.

Next came Transfigurations, which went surprisingly well. Herbology was on Wednesday and I left that exam feeling more defeated than either of the ones before, but that defeat wouldn't come close to what I felt after Thursday's Defense Against the Dark Arts practical. The DADA theory exam was simple seeing as that was all that Umbridge taught us this year, but when it came to actually using any spells, I was useless. Perhaps Potter had been onto something with that little club of his.

Ancient Runes on Friday was the only one so far that I had felt decently good about. I had spent a great deal of my free time researching runes simply because I found them fascinating, which paid off when it was exam time. Then there was Potions on the following Monday. This one, despite my usual high marks in class, I was nervous about. Without Professor Snape grading me, I wouldn't have the advantage of being in his house. It was no secret that he had always favored Slytherins, which was convenient in most situations, but would definitely only hurt my exam scores.

The final three to follow, Care of Magical Creatures, Astronomy, and History of Magic went as well as I could have expected without any major slip ups.

Once I had finally finished my History of Magic exam (which was rudely interrupted by Potter fainting and ruining my concentration), I immediately made my way to the castle grounds for a walk around the lake, Blaise by my side.

In the past few days, Blaise and I's time together was spent mostly is silence. We had both been stressed over exams, accompanied with the underlying fear of what this summer would bring. This silence heavier than normal, but neither of us was willing to address in. Until now, that is.

"Well that's finally over," Blaise sighed as we walked.

I stared down at my feet. For most students, the end of exams brought on immense excitement for the summer, but for me it merely made room for even more anxiety. "Can we maybe not talk about that?" I said bitterly, but immediately regretted it.

He was quiet for a moment before taking a deep breath. "Dray, you need to talk about it," he said, "I told you. You can't keep acting like there's nothing going on."

"It's worked thus far," I retorted coldly.

He shook his head. "Has it though?" He replied in an equally harsh voice.

Thankfully, I was spared a response as someone behind us shouted my name. I turned around to see Theodore Nott running in our direction. "What d'you reckon he wants?" I muttered under my breath to Blaise.

"Malfoy," Theo panted as he approached, "Umbridge is looking for you! Someone's broke into her office!"

My breath caught in my throat, immediately assuming the worst. "Who?" I asked frantically without a second thought.

Theo shrugged, "D'know. Probably some stupid Gryffindor."

Blaise and I locked eyes for a brief second. Somehow, he seemed to know exactly what I was thinking. Olivia was involved somehow, I just knew it. Together, we both pushed past Theo and sprinted towards the castle.

"Where are we running?" Blaise shouted as we burst into the entrance hall.

I looked over at him without slowing down. "The office! We've got to warn them! Olivia's dead is Umbridge catches her."

"Are you sure we've got the time?"

 _No,_ my logical brain told me. "We need to buy some time," I said, stopping dead in my tracks.

"You go," he nodded, backpedaling a few paces, "I'll figure something out!"

I took a deep breath and broke into a run once again as he disappeared in the opposite direction.

I had never run so fast in my life. My lungs burned as I struggled to see five feet in front of me, blinded by the fear of what I might be getting myself into. My mind screamed a thousand thoughts at once, none of them complete or logical.

A shrill scream echoed through the corridor, bringing me back to reality just as I ran directly into Ginny Weasley. "Whoa! So-n of a bitch!" I yelped, catching myself before I accidentally apologised.

"Watch it, Malfoy!" She growled back, "I wouldn't go down that corridor if I were you. Someone let off some Garroting Gas and I wouldn't want to have to deliver your body to-"

"Piss off, Weasley. I know what you're up to. Where's Riddle?"

She shrugged half-heartedly, "Why do you ask?"

"Because Umbridge is on her way up here, you weasel," I spat. Perhaps the weasel part was a bit much. "And I'm trying to do you lot a favor."

I didn't wait to hear her response, spinning on my heels and continuing off down the corridor.

"Olivia!" I shouted the second that I turned the corner and saw her standing at the base of the staircase to the office.

She flashed her eyes up at me, clearly startled. "Draco? What are you doing here?" She asked frantically.

Our eyes met for the first time since the day of the Quidditch accident and I felt my heartbeat skip inside my chest. "I uh…. I'm…" I stammered as my brain failed me, overwhelmed by the sound of her voice. "Umbridge." I managed to choke out desperately.

"Umbridge? Is she coming?"

"Yes!" I half-shouted. Instantly, she turned and began to run up the stairs. "Wait! Where are you going?" I asked as I jumped after her and grabbed her by the wrist.

"I have to warn Harry," She said, a panicked look in her eyes.

I shook my head. "We haven't got time! Potter can get himself out of this one, just like he always does."

"No." She insisted, "Draco, I can't leave him. He's counting on me."

Damn Gryffindors and their loyalty. "Fine. I'm coming with you," I countered.

"You can't. You'll get in so much trouble if you're caught helping-"

"I don't care! So Filch hangs me up by my toenails? So be it. I'm not leaving you." The words escaped my mouth before I had a chance to think about them. Perhaps my own loyalty was beginning to get the best of me.

"Potter!" A squeaky voice called down the corridor, instantly making me feel sick at my stomach. We were too late.

"Shit," I muttered. I had to think quickly. There had to be some way out of this. But I panicked. "Give me your wand!" I whispered as I pulled my own out of my pocket

She stared up at me, open mouthed, "What are you-?"

"Just do it!"

She hesitated for a moment, clearly unsure of whether or not she could trust me. Slowly, she produced it out of her robe and handed it over. In one swift movement, I snatched it from her grasp and pulled her into a headlock, my wand at her throat.

"Got one, Professor!" I yelled.

Olivia screamed in surprise.

"Excellent job, Draco! 50 points to Slytherin!" Umbridge called as she approached the staircase. When she appeared at the bottom of the stairs, she was flanked by Millicent and Blaise, who had Ginny by the robes and a wand against her back. Blaise gave me a wide-eyed look of shock, but I averted my eyes to avoid his stare. "Oh, Riddle! Make it 100 points! Up! Quickly!"

We obeyed, hurriedly making our way up towards the office. My raging heartbeat climbed up my throat as I felt Olivia struggling against my grasp. When I thought of me holding her close, this wasn't quite how I had imagined it.

When we burst into the room, Granger was stood behind the desk, frozen in fear.

"Ah, yes," Umbridge sighed. That's when I noticed him: Potter was knelt on the floor with his face in the fireplace. Umbridge grabbed him by the hair, dragging him back across the floor. "You think," she whispered, bending Harry's neck back so far that it looked as though she were about to slit his throat, so that he was looking up at the ceiling above him, "that after two nifflers I was going to let one more foul, scavenging little creature enter my office without my knowledge? I had Stealth Sensoring Spells placed all around my doorway after the last one got in, you foolish boy. Take his wand," she barked. It took me a moment to realize that she was talking to me.

Reluctantly, I reached inside Potter's robe and pulled his wand out of his pocket.

"Hers too." There was a scuffle at the door as Millicent wrestled Hermione's wand away. "I want to know why you are in my office," said Umbridge, shaking the fist clutching his hair so that he staggered.

"I was — trying to get my Firebolt!" Harry croaked as he struggled against her.

"Liar." She shook his head again. "Your Firebolt is under strict guard in the dungeons, as you very well know, Potter. You had your head in my fire. With whom have you been communicating?"

"No one—" said Harry, trying to pull away from her. I winced at the thought of the pain she was inflicting on him.

"Liar!" shouted Umbridge. She threw him from her, and he slammed into the desk. He looked around like a deer caught in headlights. When his eyes resting on me, I spun his wand in my hand nervously.

There was a commotion outside and several large Slytherins entered, each gripping Ron, Loony, and Longbottom, who was trapped in a stranglehold by Crabbe and looked in imminent danger of suffocation. All four of them had been gagged.

What had I gotten myself into?

"Got 'em all," said Warrington, shoving Ron roughly forward into the room.

"Good, good," said Umbridge, watching Ginny's struggles against Blaise. "Well, it looks as though Hogwarts will shortly be a Weasley-free zone, doesn't it?" Her eyes shifted to me, as if expecting a response.

I forced out a laugh, determined not to break my cover. Umbridge gave me her wide, complacent smile and settled herself into a chintz-covered armchair, blinking up at her captives like a toad in a flowerbed, clearly pleased. "So, Potter," she said. "You stationed lookouts around my office and you sent this buffoon," she nodded at Ron, "to tell me the poltergeist was wreaking havoc in the Transfiguration department when I knew perfectly well that he was busy smearing ink on the eyepieces of all the school telescopes, Mr. Filch having just informed me so.

"Clearly, it was very important for you to talk to somebody. Was it Albus Dumbledore? Or the half-breed, Hagrid? I doubt it was Minerva McGonagall, I hear she is still too ill to talk to anyone. . . ."

"It's none of your business who I talk to," Harry snarled.

Umbridge's slack face seemed to tighten.

"Very well," she said in her most dangerous and falsely sweet voice.

"Very well, Mr. Potter. I offered you the chance to tell me freely. You refused. I have no alternative but to force you. Draco — fetch Professor Snape."

I swallowed hard. "And miss the show?" I choked, anxiously tucking Harry and Olivia's wands into my robe. "Warrington, you go!"

Warrington sneered at me, clearly not thrilled about having to walk out on all the action. Still, I managed to get him to do my biding, as usual. He gave the Weasley boy another shove towards the floor before turning and disappearing down the stairs.

In the meantime, the office fell silent aside from the occasional scuffle of crusaders resisting their captors. Blaise and I held eye contact for a moment before I glanced down at Olivia. Her face was expressionless as she attempted to fight against me. Her small hands clawed uselessly at my arm wrapped around her neck in an attempt to pry herself free to no avail.

"This was a set up," she growled lowly, "you tricked me and I believed you."

 _I didn't mean to,_ I wanted to tell her. But I couldn't say anything in this room full of people. Umbridge gave me a tight-lipped smile that made me feel sick at my stomach.

Two pairs of footsteps echoed from the corridor outside and Warrington came back into the room, followed closely by Professor Snape.

"You wanted to see me, Headmistress?" He asked flatly as he glanced around at the scene in front of him in disinterest.

"Ah, Professor Snape," said Umbridge, smiling widely and standing up again. "Yes, I would like another bottle of Veritaserum, as quick as you can, please."

"You took my last bottle to interrogate Potter," he said, observing her coolly through his greasy curtains of black hair. "Surely you did not use it all? I told you that three drops would be suffcient."

Umbridge flushed. "You can make some more, can't you?" she said, her voice becoming more sweetly girlish as it always did when she was furious.

"Certainly," said Snape, his lip curling. "It takes a full moon cycle to mature, so I should have it ready for you in around a month."

"A month?" squawked Umbridge, swelling toadishly. "A month? But I need it this evening, Snape! I have just found Potter using my fire to communicate with a person or persons unknown!"

"Really?" said Snape, showing his first, faint sign of interest as he looked around at Harry. "Well, it doesn't surprise me. Potter has never shown much inclination to follow school rules."

"I wish to interrogate him!" shouted Umbridge angrily, and Snape looked away from Harry back into her furiously quivering face. "I wish you to provide me with a potion that will force him to tell me the truth!"

"I have already told you," said Snape smoothly, "that I have no further stocks of Veritaserum. Unless you wish to poison Potter — and I assure you I would have the greatest sympathy with you if you did — I cannot help you. The only trouble is that most venoms act too fast to give the victim much time for truth-telling. . . ."

Snape and Potter shared another glance, Harry's face frantic and concentrated. "

You are on probation!" shrieked Professor Umbridge, and Snape looked back at her, his eyebrows slightly raised as his interest seemed to peak. "You are being deliberately unhelpful! I expected better, Lucius Malfoy always speaks most highly of you! Now get out of my office!"

My breath caught at the sound of my father's name. Olivia seemed to take notice, her eyes briefly flashing up towards my face. I didn't have long to consider it, as when Snape gave Umbridge a curt bow before turning to leave, Harry seemed to pipe up. "He's got Padfoot!" he shouted. "He's got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden!"

Snape stopped dead with his hand on Umbridge's door handle.

"Padfoot?" cried Professor Umbridge, looking eagerly from Harry to Snape. "What is Padfoot? Where what is hidden? What does he mean, Snape?"

I recognized the name immediately, though I didn't know exactly what it meant. Olivia had mentioned a "Padfoot" in her letters to me over the summer. All that I knew was that Padfoot was a person that had helped teach her defense, someone that meant a lot to her. If someone that she cared about was in trouble, I had do something to help.

Snape looked around at Harry. His face was inscrutable. I couldn't quite tell if he knew what Harry was on about, and if he did, he didn't let that on in front of Umbridge.

"I have no idea," said Snape coldly. "Potter, when I want nonsense shouted at me I shall give you a Babbling Beverage. And Crabbe, loosen your hold a little, if Longbottom suffocates it will mean a lot of tedious paperwork, and I am afraid I shall have to mention it on your reference if ever you apply for a job." I stifled a laugh at the thought of Crabbe ever getting a job.

Snape closed the door behind him with a snap. Great. If he wasn't going to do anything to help, it was up to me to come up with a plan. He looked at Umbridge, who seemed to be feeling the same way; her chest was heaving with rage and frustration.

"Very well," she said, and she pulled out her wand. "Very well. I am left with no alternative. This is more than a matter of school discipline; this is an issue of Ministry security. Yes . . . yes . . ."

She seemed to be talking herself into something. She was shifting her weight nervously from foot to foot, staring daggers at Harry, beating her wand against her empty palm and breathing heavily. "You are forcing me, Potter. I do not want to," said Umbridge, still moving restlessly on the spot, "but sometimes circumstances justify the use. I am sure the Minister will understand that I had no choice. . . ."

I knew exactly what she was suggesting, and I couldn't watch it happen.

"The Cruciatus Curse ought to loosen your tongue," said Umbridge quietly.

"Professor," I interrupted before I had a chance to think about it, "surely there has got to be another way."

She turned from Potter to look at me. "Excuse me, Malfoy?" She asked skeptically.

"Well it's… it's illegal," I stammered, suddenly losing my nerve. "The Minister wouldn't want you breaking the law, would he? I don't want you to get in trouble over Potter."

"What Cornelius doesn't know won't hurt him," said Umbridge, who was now panting slightly as she pointed her wand at different parts of Harry's body in turn, apparently trying to decide what would hurt the most. "He never knew I ordered dementors after Potter last summer, but he was delighted to be given the chance to expel him, all the same."

"It was you?" gasped Harry. "You sent the dementors after me?"

"Somebody had to act," breathed Umbridge, as her wand came to rest pointing directly at Harry's forehead. "They were all bleating about silencing you somehow — discrediting you — but I was the one who actually did something about it! Only you wriggled out of that one, didn't you, Potter? Not today, though, not now . . ."

And taking a deep breath, she cried, " _Cruc_ —"

I winced at the sound of the word, knowing the pain all too well.

"NO!" Hermione screamed in a cracked voice from behind Millicent "No — Harry — Harry, we'll have to tell her!"

"No way!" yelled Harry, struggling to look towards his friend.

"We'll have to, Harry, she'll force it out of you anyway, what's . . . what's the point?" Hermione began to cry weakly into the back of Millicent Bulstrode's robes. Millicent stopped trying to squash her against the wall immediately and dodged out of her way looking disgusted.

"Well, well, well!" said Umbridge, looking triumphant. "Little Miss Question-All is going to give us some answers! Come on then, girl, come on!"

"Hermione, don't!" Olivia screamed, taking me by surprise.

Despite everyone's looks of concern and anger, there was something rather suspicious about the scene. Though Granger was loudly sobbing into her hands, there wasn't a trace of a tear. She knew exactly what she was doing. "Well," she said without looking up "well, he was trying to speak to Professor Dumbledore. . . ."

Olivia froze in my arms, taking in a sharp breath. I glanced around at the others, Ron was also frozen, his eyes wide; Ginny stopped trying to stamp on Blaise's toes; even Luna looked mildly surprised. Fortunately, the attention of Umbridge and the rest of the Inquisitorial Squad was focused too exclusively upon Hermione to notice any of this.

"Dumbledore?" said Umbridge eagerly. "You know where Dumbledore is, then?"

"Well . . . no!" sobbed Hermione. "We've tried the Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley and the Three Broomsticks and even the Hog's Head —"

"Idiot girl, Dumbledore won't be sitting in a pub when the whole Ministry's looking for him!" shouted Umbridge, disappointment etched in every sagging line of her face. Dammit. She knew this wasn't the truth.

"But — but we needed to tell him something important!" wailed Hermione desperatly, holding her hands more tightly over her face to disguise the continued absence of tears.

"Yes?" said Umbridge with a sudden resurgence of excitement. "What was it you wanted to tell him?"

"We . . . we wanted to tell him it's r-ready!" choked Hermione.

"What's ready?" demanded Umbridge, and now she grabbed Hermione's shoulders again and shook her slightly. "What's ready, girl?"

"The . . . the weapon," said Hermione.

"Weapon? Weapon?" said Umbridge, and her eyes seemed to pop with excitement. "You have been developing some method of resistance? A weapon you could use against the Ministry? On Professor Dumbledore's orders, of course?"

"Y-y-yes," gasped Hermione. "But he had to leave before it was finished and n-n-now we've finished it for him, and we c-c-can't find him t-t-to tell him!"

"What kind of weapon is it?" said Umbridge harshly, her stubby hands still tight on Hermione's shoulders.

"We don't r-r-really understand it," said Hermione, sniffing loudly. "We j-j-just did what P-P-Professor Dumbledore told us t-t-to do . . ."

Umbridge straightened up, looking exultant. "Lead me to the weapon," she said.

"I'm not showing . . . them," said Hermione shrilly, looking around at the Slytherins through her fingers.

"It is not for you to set conditions," said Professor Umbridge harshly. "Fine," said Hermione, now sobbing into her hands again, "fine . . . let them see it, I hope they use it on you! In fact, I wish you'd invite loads and loads of people to come and see! Th-that would serve you right — oh, I'd love it if the wh-whole school knew where it was, and how to u-use it, and then if you annoy any of them they'll be able to s-sort you out!"

Those words seemed to have an impact on Umbridge. She glanced around suspiciously, her eyes eventually resting on me. "Go, Professor. You must investigate," I said eagerly. "I can keep the rest of them under control."

She seemed to consider it for a moment. "All right, dear, let's make it just you and me . . . and we'll take Potter too, shall we? Get up, now. It does not sound as though this weapon is something that schoolchildren should see. You will remain here until I return and make sure none of these" — she gestured around at Olivia, Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Luna — "escape."

"All right," I said, pulling Olivia closer and tucking my face into her hair in an attempt to hide my smile.

"And you two can go ahead of me and show me the way," said Umbridge, pointing at Harry and Hermione with her wand. "Lead on. . . ."

And they made their way across the office and to the door, disappearing down the staircase.

I took a deep breath, looking around the room and surveying the situation. I had to think of something to do. I looked to Blaise desperately, knowing that in a room full of other Slytherins, I would need his help. When he finally met my eyes, I gave him a sharp nod, hoping he would understand.

"I have a plan," I whispered to Olivia in the quietest voice that I could muster. I repositioned her in my arms. "Reach into my robes and grab your wand," I said through clenched teeth. She looked up at me, clearly skeptical. I gave her a slow nod of encouragement and she seemed to trust it. Her hand slid into my robe and I felt her wand come out of my pocket.

I took a deep breath, my hand clenched around my own wand. I waited for a while, knowing that acting too soon would be far too suspicous. In the meantime, I surveyed the room. This was risky. But it was necessary. I had to help Olivia.

"On my count," I whispered, my eyes locking with Blaise's. Luckily, the others seemed far too distracted by the captives to pay me any attention.

"One."

"Two."

"Three!"

" _Petricifus Totalus!"_ I yelled, nailing Warrington in the chest with the jinx.

Olivia had gone for Millicent with a Stunner, knocking her back away from Blaise. This allowed Blaise to Stun Crabbe, freeing Longbottom from his grasp.

Ginny Weasley seemed to clue in, pulling out her wand and casting a Bat Bogey Hex at Goyle.

"UGH!" Goyle yelped in surprise as they swarmed his face. Lovegood, who seemed wildly unaware of what was going on around her, stepped back in confusion.

I let out an involuntary laugh, "Nice one."

Olivia spun around to look at me, a wide smile on her face. "You're bloody brilliant," She said.

"That's what you're calling it now?" Millicent growled as she struggled back onto her feet.

" _Expelliarmus!"_ Longbottom yelled, and to my surprise, Millicent's wand went flying across the room.

I looked back to Olivia in our brief moment of peace. "Let's get out of here," I huffed, reaching out and grabbing her by the hand. She seemed to agree, leading the way towards the stairs. Ron, Ginny, Longbottom, Lovegood, and Blaise followed, all seeming eager to get back to the task at hand.

"How do you plan on getting to London?" I asked, coming to a halt around the corner.

Olivia shrugged, "I'm hoping Harry has a plan."

I nodded. "Alright," I sighed, panting slightly as I look around at the group. They all stared at me with wide eyes and open mouths, seemingly still trying to process what had just happened.

"You should go find Snape," Olivia suggested, "Tell him to contact the Order, let them know that Padfoot is in trouble."

 _The Order?_ My brain asked, but I knew there wasn't time for questions. "Will do. You should go before the others come to their senses. Let me know how you get on."

She nodded sharply began to turn away, the others following her.

"Wait!" I said in an unintentional shout. I pulled Potter and Granger's wands out of my robe. "Give these back."

She smiled, meeting my eyes as she took them from my hand. I leaned down and left a quick peck on her lips. "Good luck."

And with that, we ran off in opposite directions.

OLIVIA:

"I'm sorry," Ron panted as we approached the Dark Forest, "but I think I've actually lost in this time. Did Draco Malfoy really just save our lives?"

I laughed, high on adrenaline. "Don't sound so surprised," I said with a sly smile.

"Surprised?" He scoffed, "I'm bloody amazed."

Low voices echoed through the trees and we knew Harry and Hermione were close. "Well, we can't do anything without wands," I heard Hermione say hopelessly, "Anyway, Harry, how exactly were you planning to get all the way to London?"

"Yeah," I called, "we were just wondering the same thing."

I saw Harry jump in surprise. Ron stepped up beside me. "Any ideas?"

"How did you lot get away?" Harry asked, clearly bewildered.

The whole group of escapees look towards me. "Being friends with Draco Malfoy has its benefits," was all that I could think to say with a proud shrug.

"Malfoy?" Harry asked, his mouth falling open.

"It was brilliant!" Neville chimed, "Warrington's face when Draco hit him with the impediment jinx was hilarious!"

I sighed, desperate to divert everyone's stares of amusement. "What'd you do with Umbridge?" I asked, changing the subject back to the task at hand.

"She got carried away," said Harry in a casual tone, "by a herd of centaurs."

"And they left you behind?" I asked, only more confused than I had been before.

"No, they got chased off by Grawp," said Harry.

"Who's Grawp?" Luna asked interestedly.

"Hagrid's little brother," said Ron promptly. "Anyway, never mind that now. Harry, what did you find out in the fire? Has You-Know-Who got Sirius or — ?"

"Yes," said Harry, as his scar gave another painful prickle, "and I'm sure Sirius is still alive, but I can't see how we're going to get there to help him." Everyone fell silent, looking rather scared. The problem facing us seemed insurmountable.

"Well, we'll have to fly, won't we?" said Luna in the closest thing to a matter-of-fact voice we had ever heard her use.

"Okay," said Harry irritably, rounding on her, "first of all, 'we' aren't doing anything if you're including yourself in that, and second of all, Ron's the only one with a broomstick that isn't being guarded by a security troll, so —"

"Excuse me?" I huffed, "I've got a broom. And so has Ginny."

"Yeah, I've got a broom!" said Ginny.

"But you're not coming," said Ron angrily.

"Excuse me, but I care what happens to Sirius as much as you do!" said Ginny, her jaw set so that her resemblance to Fred and George was suddenly striking.

"You're too —" Harry began.

"I'm three years older than you were when you fought You-KnowWho over the Sorcerer's Stone," she said fiercely, "and it's because of me Goyle's stuck back in Umbridge's office with giant flying bogeys attacking him —"

I stepped forward in between them, my eyes locked on Harry. "Besides, Harry, you can't possibly think that you three are going to go it alone."

"It's too dangerous. Olivia, if a Death Eater gets their hands on you—"

"Do you really think I care?" I interupted. "I'm going with you and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

"We were all in the D.A. together," said Neville quietly. "It was all supposed to be about fighting You-Know-Who, wasn't it? And this is the first chance we've had to do something real — or was that all just a game or something?"

"No — of course it wasn't —" said Harry impatiently.

"Then we should come too," said Neville simply. "We want to help."

"That's right," said Luna, smiling happily.

Harry glanced from Ron to Hermione and back again. "Well, it doesn't matter anyway," he said in frusteration, "because we still don't know how to get there—"

"I thought we'd settled that?" said Luna maddeningly. "We're flying!"

"Look," said Ron, barely containing his anger, "you might be able to fly without a broomstick but the rest of us can't sprout wings whenever we —"

"There are other ways of flying than with broomsticks," said Luna serenely.

"I s'pose we're going to ride on the back of the Kacky Snorgle or whatever it is?" Ron demanded.

"The Crumple-Horned Snorkack can't fly," said Luna in a dignified voice, "but they can, and Hagrid says they're very good at finding places their riders are looking for." I glanced past Harry and Hermione, in the direction that Luna was pointing. Standing between two trees, their white eyes gleaming eerily, were three thestrals, watching the whispered conversation as though they understood every word.

"Yes!" Harry whispered, moving towards them. They tossed their reptilian heads, throwing back long black manes, and Harry stretched out his hand eagerly and patted the nearest one's shining neck.

"Is it those mad horse things?" said Ron uncertainly, staring at a point slightly to the left of the thestral Harry was patting. "Those ones you can't see unless you've watched someone snuff it?"

"Yeah," said Harry.

"How many?"

"Just three."

"Well, we need four," I said insistantly.

"Five," said Ginny, scowling.

"I think there are seven of us, actually," said Luna calmly, counting.

"Don't be stupid, we can't all go!" said Harry angrily. "Look, you three" — he pointed at Neville, Ginny, and Luna — "you're not involved in this, you're not —"

"How come Olivia gets to go?" Ginny asked.

"Because she's—"

"If I'm going, we're all going," I insisted.

"Okay, fine, it's your choice," he said curtly, clearly realizing that we didn't have time to argue. "But unless we can find more thestrals you're not going to be able —"

"Oh, more of them will come," I said confidently,

"What makes you think that?"

"Because in case you hadn't noticed, you and Hermione happen to be covered in blood," I sighed again, "and we know Hagrid lures thestrals with raw meat, so that's probably why these two turned up in the first place. . . ."

And as if on cue, a herd of no less than seven thestrals came through the trees, their great leathery wings folded tight to their bodies, their eyes gleaming through the darkness. Harry had no excuse now.

"That doesn't fix the fact that neither of us have got wands," Hermione said, clearly weary of the creatures despite the fact that she couldn't see them.

"Oh!" I gasped, pulling their wands from inside my robes "Draco gave these to me." I handed them forward, and they took them reluctantly.

"All right," Harry said, clearly not pleased, "pick one and get on, then."

 **Don't forget to leave a review and tell me what you think! I've recently fallen back in love with writing, so I should be updating again soon if you'd like. Thanks for reading!**


End file.
